Demons
by HarryPForever
Summary: Dan self-harms and is anorexic. Can Phil help him battle his demons, or is he too tightly held in their grip? (Phan) WARNING: may be triggering.
1. Chapter 1

_**CHAPTER ONE - DISCOVERY**_

It was Dan's 20th birthday and his parents had decided they wanted to throw him a big party with lots of family and friends - Dan's idea of hell, basically. He hated social situations, especially ones that involved his many elderly aunts. Phil drove him down a few hours before the hellish event was due to begin, picking up his own parents along the way. They sat in the back of the car looking confused by the music playing from the stereo and by Dan and Phil's conversation which made little sense to them and seemed to be about llamas.

When they arrived at the little house, Dan's mum was stood outside, waving madly at them. Dan rolled his eyes and muttered something about embarrassment under his breath, making Phil snort with laughter. Dan got out and was submerged in hugs and kisses and squeals of 'I've missed you' and 'I love you' as well as 'you need a haircut'. Dan stood rolling his eyes and sighing theatrically, but returned the hug and gently reassured his mum while Phil and his family got out of the car. It was only her last comment that produced a negative reaction in Dan, which was a surprise to everyone, especially Phil who had never seen Dan be that rude to anyone, let alone his own mum.

"You've got so skinny, darling," she fussed, looking down at Dan's stomach. "Have you been forgetting to eat?"

"Mum, I'm fat for god's sake, I eat loads!" Dan snapped, yanking away from her. "God, you're so embarrassing." Dan flounced away from her, storming up the steps and into the house, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. Phil looked apologetically at Dan's mum, and patted her arm awkwardly before rushing after Dan.

"Dan?" He called, pushing open the door.

"What?" Dan snapped, spinning around. He was already halfway up the stairs and looked incredibly stroppy.

"C'mon, what are you doing?" Phil said, crossing the hallway and grabbing his wrist. "Your mum is pleased to see you; she hasn't seen you in months. She's organised this all for you, and you're throwing it in her face over one comment! She wasn't attacking you Dan, she's just fussing like parents do. You were pretty rude to her...that's not you at all."

As always, Phil and his huge disappointed looking eyes had the power to make Dan feel guilty. He sighed and walked slowly back down the stairs, reaching the bottom just as his mum and Phil's parents came in the front door.

"Sorry, Mum," Dan said sheepishly, kissing her on the cheek. "I'm just kind of hungry and tired, and grumpy."

"Oh it's okay, sweetie," she smiled and patted his arm. "If you're hungry that's brilliant, I made you a cake! Chocolate too, your favourite! I know how much you love food, especially CHOCOLATE food!" Dan's heart sank to rock bottom as he followed his mum into the kitchen, the Lester's close behind. Oh no. Oh god. So many calories. So much fat and sugar. His mum beamed with pride as Phil's mum complemented how good the cake looked, and she proudly gave everyone a slice of the cake, setting the biggest slice in front of Dan, kissing him on the forehead as she did so and wishing him happy birthday.

Everyone started eating the cake, remarking on how good it tasted. Dan lifted a forkful to his mouth as his mum looked at him expectantly, excitedly. He put it in his mouth, and chewed and chewed, trying not to choke on the sweet, soft cake. Before he could stop himself he had swallowed the mouthful and eaten the rest of the cake. He didn't have time to think and to realise what it would mean, and then it was all gone and inside his sickening body. He stared at the crumbs on the empty plate, feeling sick to his stomach. He was revolting. Why had he eaten all of that cake? He was such a pig. Muttering an excuse, Dan flew from the table and ran upstairs, slamming the bathroom door shut behind him.

He had to get it out, before it made him even fatter than he already was. He had to stop himself being such a hideous, fat lump. He was on the floor with his fingers down his throat, ashamed of himself both for being fat and for what he was doing. He knew that he should know better. He knew what he did wasn't healthy or normal...but he just couldn't stop. Every time he ate, he hated himself and it always ended with him puking his guts out. It was the only way he could feel content that he was at least doing something to make himself better. Although not mentally better.

Using the spare toothbrush his mum kept there for him, he quickly brushed his teeth and splashed cold water on his face, flushing the evidence of his shame away before he went back downstairs and pretended that he wasn't a mess.

* * *

Dan was with his dad in the kitchen, having a beer. He'd been working up the courage to tell his dad about his final exam all night long...he knew how he would take it. Now seemed like the only opportunity - they were alone at last and his dad was sort of on the way to being drunk so might be more forgiving.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, mate?"

"Uh...I...I sortoffailedmyfinalexamthisy ear," Dan garbled, fiddling nervously with his t-shirt. "But it's okay, it really is. I can redo the exam in August, and I'll get it right that time, I swear." He swallowed hard, knowing that the news hadn't been accepted well. His dad glared at him, a long hard glare and then he scoffed.

"Like hell you will," he said. "We've been over and over this with you so many times, Daniel. You had to take a year out to resit your a-levels too; you'd think you'd learn from that. Clearly you didn't and you've just spent this year bumming around like usual. Your brother's never failed a test, why can't you be more like him? I tell you though, mark my words boy, when you drop out of university because you aren't good enough, don't you come running to me for cash. I did my best by you boy, and you keep letting me down. Time after time." Shaking him head and muttering to himself, he left, his cruel words bearing down on Dan.

The thing was, Dan knew that everything his dad had said was true. He was a failure, and there was no way he was going to pass that exam, ever. He just didn't have the motivation, however hard he tried and however much he wished he could be different. He was just so screwed up. Dan was blinded by tears as he left the kitchen and hurried upstairs, glad that everybody had congregated in the living room so he could get away before breaking down. He went into his old room which was now used as a store room, and knelt down by where the bed was.

The bed was piled high with boxes now that it no longer needed to harbour the failure of a son, but Dan knew his hiding place would not have been discovered. He pushed his fingers under the bed and scrambled around until he found the groove in the wooden floor board. He flicked the flaking wood up, so that a section of it folded away. The secret hiding place wasn't big - it was just a slight gap where the wood had snapped and bent. It could only hold a small, thin object. Like a piece of paper, a credit card...or a razor blade. Dan picked it up, and leant back against the bed as he looked at the shiny blade.

He had some at home, hidden in his room so Phil wouldn't find them. He hadn't brought one with him - he hadn't expected to feel the need at his own birthday party. His hands were shaking as he pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing the scars and healing cuts from the distant and not so distant past. He took a deep, shaky breath as he drew the blade across his skin, watching as the blood pooled on his arm, bright and red. One, two, three. Marks of shame and pain. He was drawing the blade across his skin like a musician with a violin, but instead of making music he was making twisted, bitter scars. Self-expression, gone wrong.

Dan knew that people always want to know 'why?' and what it feels like. Dan cut because it made him feel so real and because it gave him a little buzz of excitement and because he was in control. He cut because it hurt. He cut to let out the anger and the pain and the fear. He cut because it hurt less that the emotional pain. And as for what it felt like? It felt like all the

good things in the world and all of the bad things mixed together. It felt like flying and falling at the same time. Laughing and crying. Hitting and hugging. Kissing and biting. It was an intoxicating, heady mixture of pain and freedom. He never intended to cut. It always happened in a mad frenzy, a crazy rush of emotions that he just had to get rid of. And each time, he'd promise himself that it was the last time. That he would get clean and stop, once and for all. But then something always sent him hurtling back to rock bottom. Something always left him reaching for the blade, craving the sting and the pain and the blood, craving the deep relief that came with it.

He didn't want to be afraid. He didn't want the only anaesthetic he had to be something that left him dead inside and broken and scarred on the outside. He cried himself to sleep every night, ashamed of himself for his cutting and his purging and his self-hatred. He didn't want to be alone and he didn't want to be afraid. He didn't want to die either, which people would probably assume he did. He just wanted to not be him. He just wanted to be fixed; to run right again, like he used to when he was younger and happy.

Dan sucked in a breath as he quickly wiped the blood from his arm. Already he felt pathetic, weak and stupid. He was such an idiot, such a twat. A deplorable human being who didn't deserve to have friends like Phil. Phil. If Phil ever found out, he would be devastated. Kind, sweet, good Phil. Oh if only he knew how much Dan wanted to be like him...so perfect. But Dan was not Phil and he never would be - he was pathetic, weak and broken whereas Phil was strong. So strong. Dan pushed his shirt sleeve down and wiped his tears away, bracing himself to go downstairs and make conversation with people he didn't even like.

* * *

Dan was lounging on a bean bag as his mum said goodbye to all of the guests. Him and Phil were staying the night because Phil had had a couple of beers, and his parents were getting the night bus home. Dan was playing on his Gameboy that he had found on a bookshelf, glad the party was drawing to a close...he was in the mood to go to bed, and cry beneath his pillow. When he came back downstairs he'd mingled for an hour or so, and then his dad had come up and told him he was sorry, he'd just been taken aback. He told Dan he was proud of him anyway, because he'd done great things on Youtube and blah blah blah. It was too late; because Dan could feel his cuts rubbing against his shirt...it was too late to take the words back when they had already made their mark.

A few people were still in the living room, but they were talking amongst themselves, so weren't paying attention to the silent birthday boy in the corner. Phil came in from seeing his parents off, and flopped down next to Dan on the beanbag, watching him play Pokémon.

"You okay?" He asked in Dan's ear, sensing a level of unease about his friend.

"Fine," Dan said, yawning. He threw the game down on the floor next to him and stretched. "I can't wait for everyone to be gone so I can go to sleep...what? What, Phil?"

Phil had frozen suddenly, his face a mask of shock and pain. It was only then, staring at his friend's horrified eyes, that Dan realised his shirt sleeve had fallen down as he stretched. He fumbled for the cuff, yanking it down over his damaged arm, panic shooting through him. Oh my god. He'd kept it secret for so long, how could it just all collapse now, because of a moment of carelessness? This couldn't be happening...how humiliating.

"Dan..." Phil said, his voice a mixture of pain and anger. His eyes were flashing dangerously.

"Leave it, Phil." Dan snapped, wrapping his fingers up around his cuff. "It's nothing." He spoke a little too loudly, a couple of the women on the sofa glanced over, concerned.

"Kitchen now, Daniel," Phil growled in his ear and Dan stood up quickly, for two reasons: one, Phil the pacifist had growled at him and two, Phil had used his full name. He was pissed...and with reason. Dan knew that Phil

was going to have his say whether they were alone or not, and Dan was grateful he'd at least been given the option. Dan shuffled through to the kitchen, attempting to smile at people as he passed them.

He leant nervously against the kitchen worktop as Phil rounded on him. He was sure that Phil was going to tell him what a freak he was, what a loser, what a messed up weirdo. He'd probably ask him to move out. He'd hate him. And then he'd tell everyone and they would all hate him too. But instead of yelling hateful things at him, Phil just grabbed his sleeve and rolled it up, staring at the cuts and scars that lined Dan's arm. Dan looked away, ashamed, as Phil yanked up the other sleeve to reveal the same story. Dan could feel his eyes filling up with tears of shame and panic. He wanted to speak, to explain himself, but the word wouldn't come.

Phil was silent and reeling inside as he rolled the sleeves back down, covering up his friend's secret shame. If only he had looked closer, those scars wouldn't have been so hidden. Phil was furious - with Dan, with himself, and with anyone who had ever made Dan feel bad enough to mutilate himself. But he knew that he couldn't cause a scene here, on Dan's birthday, in Dan's house, and he needed time to think about the best approach to try and help his best friend who he loved with everything he had.

So Phil just wrapped his arms around Dan, and pulled him as close as he could, holding on to the trembling frame as he ran his hands through Dan's hair. Dan relaxed into Phil, sobbing gently into his neck at the reassuring contact - Phil wasn't shouting or pushing him away, he was comforting him. When Phil pulled away, Dan felt sad, but Phil had crossed the kitchen to the medicine cupboard - he knew where everything was, he'd stayed over so many times. Phil pulled out the first aid kit, a bottle of Savalon spray and some anti-septic wipes, carrying them back over to Dan.

Dan tried to move away - he didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve his cuts to be treated and bandaged, he deserved them to be open and bleeding. He deserved to hurt. But Phil just grabbed his upper arm and held the boy fast, glaring at him.

"Don't push me, Dan." He said quietly, as he began to roll up the sleeve again.

"Phil, please..."

"No." Phil said. "I need to clean these, or they'll get infected or something. Now stay still, Dan, or I'll be cross." Dan shut his eyes, his lips trembling as Phil gently wiped the congealed blood off the cuts, sprayed them and quickly wrapped the bandage he held around Dan's arm. When he was done, Phil put everything back away and then pulled Dan back into his arms, resting his head on Dan's.

"We're going to talk about this when we get home." Phil promised firmly and Dan didn't protest. He had known straight away that Phil wasn't just going to ignore it and hope it would go away. He just clung tighter to Phil, and wished desperately that when he woke in the morning it could all be a bad dream.

...

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	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO – UNCONSCIOUS **

Dan and Phil slept in the living room together, Dan on the longer sofa and Phil on the shorter one. After an awkward goodnight, Dan buried his face beneath his pillow but found he was too numb to cry himself to sleep, and too embarrassed and ashamed to show Phil just how weak he really was. He could feel the slightly rough fabric of the bandage on his face as he leant on it, and for the first time in a while he felt cared for – even if Phil had only done it because he pitied him. After the totally stress filled nature of the day, Dan drifted off pretty quickly to the sound of Phil's steady breathing, falling into the blissful oblivion of sleep where he didn't have to think or feel.

Phil, however, remained awake into the early hours of the morning, watching Dan's chest rise and fall from across the room. Asleep, he looked peaceful and happy, a small smile painted on his handsome face. Asleep, Phil couldn't see the pain hidden in those brown eyes. But the bandage on his arm showed how deceptive appearances could be. For the first time since he was a child, Phil cried proper tears that left his cheat heaving and his lungs gasping for air. He cried for Dan, for the pain that Dan had felt and for the pain that he had caused himself. When he finally drifted off, he fell into a troubled sleep where the events of the evening replayed themselves agonisingly over and over: _Dan's ruined arm; the scars that proved it had been going on for so long; the clearly fresh blood and cuts; the way he had tried to hide what he had done, and the shame and embarrassment on his face._ _And the way he was shaking like a leaf whilst Phil held him close. _

* * *

When Phil woke up the next morning, it was to Dan shaking him awake. Dan was already fully dressed – long sleeves of course, and had his hobbit hair, so he must've been in the shower. Phil blinked sleepily up at Dan and smiled happily, almost forgetting what he had discovered the night before. But a flash of white as Dan moved his arm away brought it all flooding back and Phil sat up quickly, eyes scanning Dan's face. _Was he okay? How would he be able to tell if he wanted to cut? Had he been cutting before he woke Phil up?_

"Relax, Phil." Dan sighed, feeling his cheeks flush suddenly. He felt so awkward now his secret was out…and there was no way he could hide his desperate weakness any longer. "I'm alright this morning."

"Sure?" Phil didn't know if he should believe him or not. He didn't know if Dan would tell him the truth when clearly he had been lying to him for months, if not even longer than that.

"Yeah," Dan said. "We should head off, or we'll get stuck in rush hour traffic. My parents have gone to work already."

"Okay," Phil agreed, "Give me a few minutes to get dressed."

"I'll be in the kitchen," Dan stated, standing up. Impulsively, Phil's hand suddenly shot out, his fingers wrapping themselves around Dan's unbandaged wrist. Dan looked down, raising an eyebrow, confused. Phil swallowed deeply, breathing quickly.

"Uh, no, please." Phil said. "Can…can you just sit over there and not look?"

"Why?" Dan was looking at Phil like he was insane, but Phil couldn't let him go into the kitchen alone. Because Phil was very aware that the kitchen was a room where there were _knives._

"I don't want you to hurt yourself," Phil said quietly, figuring honesty was the best policy as he went over to his bag and pulled out his jeans and a clean shirt.

"I won't," Dan muttered, blushing again.

"That's right because you're not going into the kitchen," Phil told him blankly. "Now turn around."

Dan sighed and turned around, feeling tears spring to his eyes as he stared at the yellow flowery wall in front of him. _Phil didn't trust him to be alone_. Heck, Dan didn't actually trust himself to be alone. But he felt so out of control now that Phil knew. He had been planning to go to the kitchen and cut…just once, and somewhere Phil wouldn't see. Because he didn't know what was going to happen when they got home, and his panic had reached fever pitch. His head was a swarm of negative thoughts of Phil hating him, calling him names, throwing him out. He didn't know how he would live with that, and he was so afraid. And now he was stood in the living room, a shaking wreck because he _needed, needed, needed _to cut, to make the fear go away. He could hardly breathe around the intense terror that had enveloped him.

Phil's hand touched his arm, making him jump - he'd been so focussed on the panic and the pain that he hadn't heard Phil call his name.

"Are you _crying?" _Phil asked in a strange voice, that Dan didn't understand. Revolted? Worried? Confused? It was impossible to interpret.

"Sorry," Dan mumbled, angrily swiping at his face, wiping the traitors away.

"Don't apologise for crying, Dan." Phil said, pulling his best friend into a quick one armed hug. "Right let's go. But we're stopping on the way to get some breakfast because I am starved."

As Phil headed out of the door with their bags, Dan trailed after him with only one thought in his head – _I bet you aren't as hungry as I am. _He couldn't remember the last time he had kept anything substantial down. Most of the time he had an excuse – _'Oh I ate before I came', 'Sorry, I feel a bit unwell', 'I'm eating out later, better not' _– and when that failed he'd just stick his fingers down his throat and get rid of it before it made him fatter. He drank a lot of water to stop his stomach from rumbling because then people would think he was just a greedy pig, and sometimes it worked and stopped him feeling the craving for food. But a lot of the time the hunger was so intense that it was painful, and sent waves of agony through Dan's body. _He deserved it though. He was so fat, so hideous. And messed up. There was nothing good there, nothing at all. He deserved the aching, painful hunger. He deserved the blade slicing him to pieces. He deserved to hurt._

* * *

Dan hadn't tried to persuade Phil he wasn't hungry – he knew it would just look suspicious if he refused to eat first thing in the morning. So he woodenly swallowed the bacon sandwich that Phil had ordered for him, taking huge swigs of coffee to help the sticky gloop slide down his throat. He ate it quickly, deliberately, so he could finish before Phil.

"I just need to go take a leak," Dan said, stretching and gesturing towards the toilet sign with his head.

"Dan…" Phil sounded hesitant, and unsure. He stared pointedly at Dan's bandaged arm.

"Phil, I don't have anything on me," Dan said. "You can check my pockets if you like." Phil met his eyes for a moment, searching for some giveaway, and then shrugged.

"Fine," Phil said. "But you better show me your wrists when you come back. And if you're more than three minutes, I'm coming in there."

"Whatever," Dan rolled his eyes. "I just need a pee, Phil. Chill."

Phil watched Dan's retreating back uneasily, feeling his appetite ebb away. He didn't know how he was going to cope with being apart from Dan for even a minute…he knew that every single time he couldn't see the boy, his mind would assume the worst. It took all he had not to run after Dan and insist that he come to the toilet with him – that would be weird, and pushing it. _And he didn't want to make him cry again. _

Dan felt ridiculously guilty as he pushed the toilet door open…Phil had only let him go because he thought he wasn't going to hurt himself…which technically he wasn't. But if Phil found out about this too, he would literally be horrified at what Dan had become. Shaking the image of Phil's shocked face the night before away, Dan slammed his hand onto the hand dryer button, setting it off roaring as he locked himself into a cubicle and fell to his knees, flinging the toilet seat back and sticking his fingers down his throat with practised ease.

As he gagged and brought his gloopy breakfast back up, the familiar acrid taste filled his mouth and he shut his eyes so he wouldn't have to watch the physical evidence of his own disgusting nature. He kept going until he was bringing up nothing but liquid and he was slightly dizzy. He spat a couple of times into the toilet to clear the hideous aftertaste and stood up, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. He pulled the flush and left the toilet, swilling his mouth out with water from the sink and then chewing a piece of the super-strong minty-fresh gum which he always carried with him for occasions like that. He swallowed and stared at himself in the mirror, practising a fake carefree smile that might possibly placate Phil and prevent an embarrassing public wrist checking scenario.

Phil breathed a sigh of relief as Dan exited the toilet within three minutes, running one of his hands through his hair and smiling gently at Phil. _Maybe he IS alright today. _Phil had quickly paid the bill in Dan's absence so as soon as he saw the boy, he stood up, and grabbed Dan's coat, heading towards him.

But then, without warning, Dan suddenly crumpled to the floor. His face changed, his knees buckled and he fell forwards, smacking his head on the corner of one of the stone tables as he fell. It was like a slow motion action shot in which Phil watched in horror, but knew he would never reach him in time. Heart throbbing far too quickly and hands shaking, Phil ran to him, balling up his jacket and pressing it to the bleeding cut on his head the moment he was by his side.

Around him he could hear frantic calls of '_CALL 999' 'SOMEONE GET SECURITY' '999' _but they faded to nothing as he stared down at the unmoving, white face. One thing that Phil did not understand, was how? How could someone just collapse and faint like that? Dan had been feeling fine five minutes before…what could have caused him to faint? Phil felt his heart speed up as he wondered if his friend had suffered a heart attack…or _oh god. What if he took something? What if he was trying to kill himself?_

* * *

**I know, I'm such a deplorable human being :) please please leave a review and tell me what you thought, i love to know that people care enough to just let me know what they think. thank you all for reading. xxxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE – DAN'S PERSONAL EXORCIST**

Phil sat by the side of the hospital bed, staring at Dan's unconscious face. His face was a blank mask, still and unmoving, and without his usual smile Phil barely recognised him. He'd been there for eight hours and in that time things had become so much worse than Phil had ever imagined they could be. Dan was attached to a drip which was pumping nutrient into him, because he was drastically underweight.

When Phil had expressed confusion as to how this could be, and insisted he had seen Dan eating, the kindly old female doctor had taken Dan's unconscious hand and twisted it to show Phil the knuckles of Dan's hands which were slightly scarred. She explained to Phil that this was something called Russell's sign – the scarring was a result of Dan forcing his fingers repeatedly down his throat and making himself throw up. Dan weighed just seven and a half stone now, and as Phil stared at him in his hospital gown instead of his oversized clothes, all he could see was a skeleton.

Whilst Dan was unconscious there were lengthy conversations about what was to be done with him – the nurse in charge wanted to section him, but Phil fought angrily against that. He insisted that Dan was not insane, and he didn't need to be treated like he was. Nobody seemed happy with the idea of letting Dan leave the hospital but Phil had been searching stuff on his phone in a bid to save his friend from imprisonment and thus he was able to point out several loopholes that allowed him to change the nurse's mind.

Part of Phil wondered why he was struggling so hard to keep Dan out of hospital, when it was clearly what he needed. But Phil knew Dan, and he knew that if he was locked up in a mental institute he was unlikely to get any better. So, Phil signed Dan's papers, enlisting himself as Dan's primary carer and agreeing to take him to all of his outpatients meetings and ensure he followed his course of anti-depressants and ate a certain number of calories per day. Phil signed it all, trying to hide his fear as he fully understood the level of care that Dan needed. But even though the nurse gave Phil plenty of time to change him mind, he stuck firm by what he had said – he was going to look after Dan.

* * *

Phil was on his way home in a taxi, because Dan wouldn't be awake for another six hours due to the sedatives he'd been given because he'd woke up and gone into a full scale panic attack, clawing at the air and crying. It had been scary and Phil had been pushed to the side of the room, tears leaking from his eyes as the doctors pinned his friend to the bed, and he desperately wondered what he'd turned into.

He'd phoned PJ and Chris once the taxi was on its way, and he'd explained everything over the phone because it was easier than in person. He'd asked them to meet him at the flat, because he needed help if he was going to get everything done in time. Everything was planned out in his head, and he just needed to get the flat sorted and go to the supermarket and back to the hospital in four hours – he had to be there when Dan woke up, he didn't want him to start panicking again. Anyway, he needed to tell him that he had to insist to the hospital staff that he wanted Phil as his temporary carer – that was the final hoop that had to be jumped before they would allow Phil to sign release papers. Phil just hoped that Dan wouldn't wake up early and tell them he didn't want that, thinking he'd be allowed to go home anyway. He wouldn't. If he said that, he'd be sectioned and all of Phil's arguing and frenzied phone research would have been for nothing.

Chris and PJ were waiting outside when Phil reached their floor, and Chris immediately put his arms around Phil and squeezed him.

"We'll get him through this, Phil." PJ said from behind, smiling reassuringly. "So, what do you need us for?"

"Searching the flat," Phil admitted. "We have to find Dan's razors. Every single one of them, because I bet he knows where they're all hidden and I guarantee he won't tell me. Literally turn the place upside down, leave nothing untouched, okay? I need to know he can't hurt himself. Whilst you two are doing that, I'm going to be putting all of the knives and anything else sharp into my safe box."

"What do we do with the razors when we find them?" Chris asked as Phil unlocked the door. _When we find them. Not if. _

"Just put them on the kitchen table," Phil said. "I'm not keeping those, they're going in the bin. But not the bin in here, in case he goes through it."

As Chris and PJ began the search starting with Dan's room, Phil went to his wardrobe and took out his safe box. It had been a Christmas present from his parents and it just had some money in it for emergencies. Phil keyed in the combination and took the money out, stashing it under his bed instead, and then changing the code on the box because Dan knew it too. He then went to the kitchen and yanked open the cutlery drawer, chucking in all of the knives. Once that was done he searched the apartment, stuffing in anything he saw that could be used as a self-destructive weapon – scissors, badges, the bleach under the sink, bathrobe ties, loose bottle caps, nail clippers, pencil sharpeners, pins, screws, pencils, pens. He then locked it, and put it back in his wardrobe. Hopefully Dan would not go looking for it, but if he did he wouldn't be able to get into it.

Phil then got the spare fold-out bed from the airing cupboard and set it up next to his bed. He put his sheet, duvet and pillows on the camp bed and then went and got Dan's bedding off his bed, putting it on his own bed. That way, Dan couldn't exactly get up in the middle of the night without waking Phil, and he'd still be perfectly comfortable. Once that was done, Phil moved onto his final task – unscrewing the locks from every lockable door in the house – so the one to his bedroom, the one to Dan's bedroom and the two bathroom ones.

When he went back into the kitchen, pleased that he'd established everything he'd needed to, the sight in front of him instantly made his eyes tear up and he choked, gasping for breath. He'd been expecting two, maybe three razors. But on the table, sat in front of a solemn looking Chris and PJ were what looked to be about twenty. _Twenty razors. _Phil took a few deep breaths before shaking his head and dashing from the room.

He made it to the hallway before he slid to the floor, his back pressed against the cold wall behind him. His head was ringing, and he could feel tears making their way down his face as he buried his face in his hands. It was worse than he'd thought, so much worse. Dan was in so deep, so so deep, and Phil really didn't know if he could get him out again. A quote of Shakespeare's that Phil remembered rose unbidden to his mind '_Hell is empty, and all the devils are here'. _They were all on the table in the forms of Dan's razors. His implements of self-mutilation, self-harm, self-hatred. Dan's head was full of demons and it had just become Phil's job to be Dan's personal exorcist. If it was the last thing he ever did, Phil was determined that however hard it might be, he was going to save Dan before it was too late. _If it wasn't already. _


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR – THE DARKNESS**

Dan was awake, but his eyes didn't seem to want to open. He tried a few times to open them but being as lazy as he was he soon gave up. He could hear bustling in the corner of the room, and wondered if it was Phil…Phil. He'd seen him when he'd first woken up. He'd seen him and he'd realised where he was and what was stuck in his arm and everything had suddenly exploded inside of him. He'd screamed and clawed the air, and the loudest thought in his mind had been _I NEED TO STOP THEM FEEDING ME. _

The other thought in his mind was full of shame as he realised that now Phil knew everything – that in the space of a day every secret that Dan had hidden away behind locked doors and long sleeves had suddenly been ripped open and Phil could see it all. Dan had wanted to say something to Phil, apologise maybe, but his mouth was too busy screaming, and as the nurses and doctors flooded towards him with pointy objects all he could see were the tear tracks on Phil's mortified face. _What have I done?_

Through his sleepy haze, a whispered conversation became apparent, and Dan struggled to tune in, only to be disappointed because it wasn't Phil – Phil wasn't there. _Phil had left him there alone._ _Alone and afraid in the dark. And cold. It was so cold. _

"So, what are we to do?"

"Janice, it's not worth our while to do anything more than follow instructions. Really, the boy needs sectioning but that pest of a friend of his kept finding loopholes. On every point he made, he was right. We cannot retain Mr Howell as we would wish."

"He's a mess, bless his little heart," whispered the softer of the two voices. "He needs looking after."

"And can his friend do that?"

"Friend? I presumed…I presumed they were lovers?"

_I wish. I wish, I wish, I wish. _

"It doesn't matter what relation they are, just that he has signed papers saying he'll be Mr Howell's primary carer. We just need to ask Mr Howell what he wants, and if he says he'd rather not be under Mr Lester's care, then we have full warrant to section him…"

The voices faded away and there was the noise of a door shutting behind them. Dan's head was swirling with thoughts and feelings…Phil had said he would look after him? So, did that mean that Phil wasn't going to walk away from him? Did that mean that Phil still wanted him even though he knew how messed up Dan was? _Well…not wanted. Not in the way that Dan wanted him. _But that was the thing, Dan was broken. He was a million pieces of the floor, he was shattered and torn apart and everything bad in the world resided inside him. He died a little bit more inside every time he cut, every time he deliberately opened up channels between himself and his demons. But Phil had offered to stand by his side, had fought to keep him from being sectioned, even knowing that in his mind Dan harboured every demon in the fiery depths of hell. That was _Phil. _The only pure and good thing left in Dan's life; the only thing that kept him fighting every day, and marching on with a smile on his face when he was dying inside. It had always _been _Phil and it always would be.

_Until Phil found someone else. Until Phil realised that Dan was too broken to ever be fixed. A car that was good for nothing but scrap. A laptop that would be sold for spare parts. A child's doll with no eyes that was abandoned in the street. Broken furniture thrown in a skip. Someone in the middle of a lake, who had forgotten how to swim. _

Finally, Dan could open his eyes but it was only so that he could cry. He was alone in the room – _where was Phil_? He lifted a hand to wipe his tears away – the hand that wasn't attached to the drip, and saw the bandage that Phil had put on, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

It hurt him so much, every single time that he thought about how he felt about Phil. He didn't know how long he could carry on with it. He thought about Phil and it made him smile; how funny he was, how sweet, how kind. The way he always covered his mouth with his hands when he laughed. The cute sad face he always pulled. The way he didn't care what anyone thought about him. His stupid, cheap hair straighteners. His odd socks. His lion. His 'draw Phil naked' idea. The sound of his infectious laugh. His weird animal noises. The way he kept his cordless power drill in his wardrobe even though it had never been opened. How strong he was. His eyes which were bluer than anyone else's. His Christmas jumpers. The way he always messes with his hair. The cat whiskers thing. The way he always bought too much food, even before Dan stopped eating it. The way he used girls shower gel, and told all of his fans about it. The way he put up with everything Dan did.

It was good to think of Phil, but then in a heartbeat it was bad. Dan's mind took the good and tainted it, because _it could._ Because long ago it had stopped seeing the good in the world and started hunting down the bad, because he knew it was there. _It was always there, waiting in the wings, a shadow biding its time to pounce and destroy. _Because nothing good can last. And nobody as good as Phil would stay with somebody as dark and destructive as Dan. He knew that one day Phil would find a girl, settle down with her. Make Dan move out so she could move in…it would be like there was a photograph of Dan and Phil. Phil would take scissors and he would cut Dan out of the photo, screw him up and throw him in the bin and then stick a girl over the hole that once belonged to Dan, and then with time, children would be added to the photo. And Dan would stay in the bin, as broken as before but alone again. And Phil wouldn't even know what he had done to Dan.

Dan knew that it was coming in the future, and every time he thought of it, the panic started. Just like it was now. It was like a tsunami wave, rising up inside him. He felt like a balloon being filled to bursting point, or a hurricane at the centre of a burning building. He felt like he was a mirror about to be shattered and incur bad luck forever. Everything was building up in him until he was choking for air and shaking so much that his teeth were knocking together. Taking shallow breaths, Dan scanned his eyes around the room panicked.

_Where was he now? If he came back, and smiled at me, I think I could be okay for a bit longer._

"Look at me," Dan spat to himself in a bitter voice. "I'm pathetic."

He ripped the drip from his hand, chucking the wire away from him and then shoving himself out of the bed. His head spun and he placed his hands down on the bed, steadying himself. He needed relief; he needed a way to get out of his own head. The demons were everywhere and it was so dark. _Don't get too close, it's dark in here. _Where was the light? With Phil, wherever he was. And when Phil left, _which he would, _where would the light be then? Lighting up somebody else's life, whilst Dan's descended into total, permanent darkness.

The demons would win, in constant darkness. Daylight scared them away, but an eternal night? They won battles against Dan all of the time, but when the lights came back on, they were forced to recede. In nothing but darkness, Dan would lose the war. He knew he would be forced to pay the ultimate price for being too weak to fight against himself.

_He needed goddamn relief and he needed it fast. MAKE THEM GO AWAY. _Tears streamed down his face, his hands were clawing at his own arms, and then he saw a glint of metal. He stumbled across the room, and pulled open the door. He felt so fragile. Like glass. Like the finest china. Like a new born child. _Don't let Phil see. He'll leave even sooner. _Dan grasped his bandage and unwrapped it quickly from his arm, revealing the cuts from the previous day, which were closed now but still angry and red.

He forced his arm against the sharp metal of the door lock, and in one swift, jerking action he scraped his arm along it, feeling the ripping tearing burn as his skin tore open. He exhaled. Blood pooled on his arm, glorious, red, real blood. Swallowing, he shut the door and stumbled back to his bed, exhaling again as he felt the fear begin to ebb away. His tears were subsiding now, as he paid the price of the blood that kept his demons at bay.

He wrapped the bandage firmly back around his arm, climbed back into bed and practised his fake smile, knowing that for the time that he could feel his arm burning, he was safe from the dark. _For now._

* * *

**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, followed or favourited this story. I cannot tell you how much it means that some of you actually take the time not only to read the story but to give me the boost I need to continues. 12 reviews was more than I could ever have hoped for, so thank you so much xxxxxxxxx**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE – YOUR NIGHTLIGHT**

Phil knew the minute that he got to the hospital that he was too late – the evil nurse was watching him with her eagle eyes from the receptionist's desk, and he could just tell by her face that Dan was awake and she'd spoken to him. Trepidation rose up inside him along with fear for Dan – Dan got freaky if he was trapped in the lift for five minutes, let alone a mental home for god knew how long – that experience in itself would turn him insane. Phil walked over to the nurse, trying to look casual.

"Is he…is he awake?" Phil asked nonchalantly, running a hand nervously through his hair.

"He is," the nurse nodded, her face a cold metal mask. _Evil lady. _"You can go and see him if you like. He's okay now."

"Um…when…when can he leave?" Phil asked, stuttering as she fixed him with a long, hard stare. _What was she going to say? Had they even asked Dan properly or _had_ they tricked him? Because they really did not want to let Phil look after him…_

"This evening," the evil nurse said, in an evil voice, with an evil face. "The doctor just needs to speak with you, at four, and then you can take him home."

"Okay," Phil grinned. "Brilliant."

"It's a big responsibility." The nurse was shuffling papers in an outraged manner, as if she couldn't bear Phil's happiness at the news.

"I know," Phil said, already turning to go to Dan's room. "You already said that like five million times."

He could breathe more easily now that he knew Dan's worst nightmare wouldn't become his reality. He paused outside the room, taking a deep breath as he prepared to see Dan properly for the first time since he'd found out exactly what Dan had been doing to himself. _The idiot. _Phil didn't want to get angry with Dan, nor did he want to cry. He needed to be calm, rational and supportive and try and distance himself from the fact that he wanted to throttle Dan for hurting himself at the same time as wanting to hold him close and never let go.

* * *

When he walked in, Dan was propped up in bed, looking tired but alive. He smiled at Phil when he saw him, a proper beaming smile which quickly turned to a guilty one. Phil smiled back, hurrying over so he stood by the bed. He bent down and hugged Dan, being careful because he felt so thin and fragile, and he made sure that he didn't knock against the bandaged wound on Dan's head from where he'd split his head open. He felt Dan's arms wrap themselves tightly around him too, and it was a source of comfort that Dan was still alive and able to do that.

"I've been so worried," Phil mumbled into the back of Dan's hair, which was pressed against his face.

"I'm sorry," Dan said, in a quiet voice. "I'm really, really sorry Phil."

"We've got a lot to talk about," Phil said, releasing Dan from his tight grip and sitting down on the edge of the bed. "But not now, later."

"I'm s…" Dan's face was a map of guilt and pain.

Phil stretched out his finger and pressed it to Dan's lips.

"Later," Phil said firmly. "We will talk about it all at home. But before we do, I want you to know that when we do get back to the flat, I'm going to have a lot of questions. And whatever the answers are Dan, nothing will change. You can tell me everything and it won't change the fact that I am going to look after you, and that I will be standing by your side until you are fixed, okay?"

"Phil you don't have to." Dan said quietly, staring down at his hands and biting on his lip like he did when he was nervous.

"Do you know what the alternative is, Dan?" Phil asked, placing a finger under Dan's chin, forcing him to look up. Dan's brown eyes were scared; scared and haunted. _And beautiful. _

"Yes," Dan whispered. "I overheard the nurses saying that if I didn't accept you as my carer or whatever, then I would be sectioned."

"Well why are you saying I don't have to then?" Phil asked. "What kind of a choice is that?"

"Phil, I'm a complete mess. I…when they asked me what I wanted I told them that I wanted to stay with you, because I do, Phil. You make me happy." _Do I? Then why do you hurt yourself? If I made you happy, we wouldn't be here now. We'd be at home making another video, laughing and eating cereal and staying in our pyjamas all day. Like we used to, before. _

"Don't pull that face," Dan sighed, noticing the cynical flicker in Phil's eyes. "You _do,_ Phil. You're the only thing that does anymore. Without you I don't know how I'd have got this far and without you I'm sure I'd have a hell of a lot more s…scars." He swallowed and shut his eyes, taking a deep breath as his cheeks flushed red. _I'm so ashamed._ He wanted to vanish into a bit hole of embarrassment, but he had to let Phil know that he could go, if he wanted to."But, honestly, wouldn't you rather just hand me over to the professionals and carry on life as normal? You could do the radio show by yourself; you don't need me for that. When I'm better maybe I could help you with it again. Phil, I don't want to be a burden. It was wrong of me to accept and to say I wanted to stay with you. I shouldn't have put that on you."

"Dan, life wouldn't _be _normal without you," Phil said, already feeling his anger rising up inside. _How dare Dan think like that? How dare he not know what he meant to Phil? _"You are my best friend, Dan, and the most important person in my life. Look, if I were you, Dan, if I'd been starving myself for months and cutting, what would you do? Would you just be like 'oh whatever, let him go into rehab?' or would you want me to stay at home with you?"

"I'd look after you, of course." Dan said straight away, looking slightly offended at the mere suggestion that he wouldn't. "But that's _different_."

"_How _is it different, Dan?"

"You're worth saving." It was said in a dull, flat voice and yet Phil could hear the deep rooted insecurity behind it. _You're worth saving and I'm not. I'm not worth anything._ Dan's eyes glittered with unshed tears and he tried to swallow past the lump in his throat as Phil took his hands in his own, carefully, gently, and squeezed them.

"Well I think you're worth saving," he said firmly. "And whether you think you are or not, that doesn't matter to me because I do, and you know I don't change my mind."

"You were always stubborn," Dan murmured, smiling weakly and squeezing back.

"I always will be, when it comes to you." Phil promised. "You're my best friend and always will be."

Dan stretched out his arms, wordlessly asking for a hug. Phil smiled again, pleased that Dan was asking for comfort from him – it was a step in the right direction…but then he froze as his eyes caught a flash of red on the white bandage. In his head Phil was shouting and swearing, and he felt nauseous as his mind made the connection between the blood on the bandage which had previously been clean. Phil reached out, and saw the flash of rejection in Dan's eyes turn to panic as Phil gently wrapped his fingers around the arm, tugging it closer.

"What is this?" Phil asked in a dangerously quiet voice, one finger lightly touching the red stain on the bandage.

"I…I guess…I guess that after you bandaged it…the cuts must've…uh…opened again, when I moved…" Dan said, struggling to pull his arm from Phil's grasp and looking away from his piercing gaze. "That's all."

Phil didn't answer, he just grasped the edge of the bandage and swiftly unwrapped it, revealing the cuts that he had bandaged himself two days ago that had closed up, and a large, jagged vertical cut which was clearly very fresh and was lined with dried blood where it hadn't been wiped before wrapping. It was like a kick in the gut so forceful it took Phil's breath away for a moment. He could hear Dan starting to sob as the redness of the cut swam before his eyes, and Dan yanked his arm away, covering the cut with his hand.

"You lied." Phil said dully; realising at once how close an eye would need to be kept on Dan. How could he ever leave him alone again? He was in a hospital surrounded by nurses, without any blades, and yet he'd managed to do that to himself. _Well Dan, enjoy your last few moments of freedom because the second we get home, you're not going anywhere without me. Ever. _

He stood up swiftly, and headed out of the door. He could hear Dan behind him, crying apologies and begging for him to stay, and it hurt but he was too angry and freaked out to stop and reassure him that he would be back. _One day, I'll tell him that I'll always be back. That nothing will ever keep me away from him, unless he chooses for it to be that way. _

He took a deep, calming breath once outside and asked the woman at the desk for a wipe. She gave him three packaged sterile wipes without even asking why – they were in a hospital, the chances were you didn't want to know. Running a hand through his hair, Phil leant against the cold hospital wall and took several more deep breaths. _Stop thinking about you Phil, and think about how Dan feels. He's in there all alone, probably convincing himself that you're never coming back because he's such a freak. If only he could see the reason I'm so angry is because I can't stand that he would do that to himself. Because I love him too much to watch him destroy himself. _

"Phil?"

Phil jumped slightly and turned to see Dan leaning weakly against the door, clinging on to it like it was some kind of life support. His bandage had been messily wrapped back around his arm, hiding the offending cut from sight, and he had tear tracks on his face, his brown eyes big and his lashes super long from crying. He looked adorable. And sad.

"Sorry, I was just getting these," Phil said softly, holding up the antiseptic wipes. "C'mon, you should get back in bed."

"No I want to go home." Dan said firmly, wrapping his fingers around the door. "You said we could talk at home. I want to talk. I want to go home, Phil."

"We can go home soon," Phil promised, prising Dan's fingers from the door and lightly pushing him back into the room. "Stop being silly and sit down so I can clean the cut."

"No."

"Dan, don't be ridiculous," Phil said, pointing at the bed. "Now sit down."

"You can't make me," Dan said stubbornly, standing in the middle of the room looking exactly like a pedantic child as he folded his arms and pouted. Inside, he knew he was being ridiculous. But part of him was testing Phil, seeing how far he could push until Phil snapped and gave up on him. _Soon, it'll be soon. _But Dan was already surprised by how much Phil had taken in his stride. Already a voice of reason was sneaking in through the darkness, telling him that maybe; maybe it would all be okay. _Although the voice of reason was only small. _

"Actually Dan, I could." Phil said, feeling mean as he took Dan's arm and tugged on it. "You're too weak to stop me right now, so if you don't sit on the bed, I _will_ make you. But I don't want to do that."

Dan stared at Phil for about ten seconds, and Phil could feel the conflict in his mind – he wanted to refuse to obey to prove that he had control of the situation, but deep down he knew Phil was right. Finally, with a massive huff, Dan pulled his arm from Phil's grasp.

"Fuck you, Phil." Dan muttered as he stomped over to the bed and flung himself down. Phil supressed a smile as he followed, sitting down with considerably less force. Dan folded his arm tightly against his side and scowled at Phil.

"Stop it, Dan," Phil said sternly. "You're acting like you're four or something. Give me your arm."

"I can do it myself," Dan muttered, snatching at the wipes. Phil moved his hand away, lightly tapping Dan's hand in admonishment.

"Clearly you can't, otherwise we wouldn't be doing this now." Phil said pointedly, raising an eyebrow at Dan. He waited like that, staring Dan down until slowly Dan unfolded his arm and held it out, his bottom lip protruding. "Thank you." Phil said gently, quickly patting Dan's leg with his hand as an unspoken way of telling Dan he was pleased with his compliance.

He unwrapped the hastily wound bandage and placed it on the bed next to him, quickly ripping off the top of the foil packet and sliding out the small wipe. As he pressed it to Dan's skin, Dan's other hand grabbed his and his face contorted as the alcohol in the wipe irritated the partially open cut.

"Ssh, it's okay." Phil murmured, continuing to wipe because he knew it would be worse if he took it off and had to put it back on after a pause. With his other hand, he used his thumb to rub Dan's hand reassuringly. Once all of the congealed blood had been wiped off, Phil squeezed Dan's hand to let him know it was over. Dan exhaled the breath he'd been holding so tightly that his face had gone red and opened his eyes.

"Ow," he murmured. Phil grinned and ruffled his hair before standing up to put the wipe in the bin. When he turned back around, Dan was wrapping the bandage back around his arm with an adorable look of concentration on his face.

"You don't really need that anymore," Phil pointed out as he returned to the bed. "They're pretty much closed."

"I…I don't…I don't want you to see them." Dan muttered, flushing a deep red. "I'm ashamed."

Phil didn't say anything, but he wrapped his arms around Dan, pulling him close so that the boy's head rested on his shoulder. He rubbed circles on Dan's back through the thin hospital gown – _God, he's so bony…how did I not notice? – _and shut his eyes tight, wishing that they could go back in time to when they first met, when Dan had been a healthy weight and always wore short sleeves. _It had been sunny then; now it was raining and the sky was grey. He had been happy then, and now he wondered how on earth he would ever be that content again, now he knew._ He wished desperately that they could go back to that time when things were good so that he could watch Dan like a hawk, to spot the moment when it all started and stop him. _Stop him from ever having to suffer like he had._

"Dan, I'm not going to judge you," Phil said softly. "I know that you…I know that it's hard for you to stop yourself, and we'll work on that. But I need you to promise me one thing if I'm going to help you."

"What?" Dan asked, moving back and looking into Phil's eyes. _Beautiful blue eyes. Like the sky. Not my sky though; a sky without black clouds, a sky with the sun. _

"Never lie to me again, Dan. You lied to me when I asked where the blood was from, and you've clearly been lying to me for a while." Phil said, making sure he maintained eye contact. "Promise me you won't lie to me Dan."

_But what if he asked me something that I can't answer without embarrassing myself? What if he asks why I cut myself today? What if he asks if I've ever cut for him? Because I have, so many times. Every single time I remember how much I love him and then remember how I cannot keep him with me always._

"Dan." Phil raised an eyebrow. "I want to help you. I want to help you so much that it hurts me, okay? It hurts me to think that you've been in hell for so long and I didn't even know. I need to make sure that you're going to be okay, and the only way I can do that is if you don't lie to me."

"Phil…I…"

"Think about _me_, Dan." Phil said, in a tone that bordered on desperation. "If you don't promise me this, I won't be able to sleep for worrying. Every single thing you say or do, I'll be trying to figure out what it means because there would be no way of me knowing for sure."

"But…but…what if it's something embarrassing…or secret?"

"I wouldn't tell anyone," Phil said. "And I would never judge you. I promise. Anything you tell me will be forgotten once we've got you through the storm. Please, Dan. Promise me you won't lie to me."

Dan met Phil's unwavering gaze with a slight trepidation in his eyes. _To hell with it. _

"I promise," he whispered. "I promise I won't lie to you again, Phil."

_And the one important thing about Dan was that he had never, ever broken a promise to anybody but himself. And every promise he'd broken to himself had started 'I will stop…'_

"Thank you." Phil said. "We_ are_ going to get through this."

"I'm scared." Dan said quietly. "I'm always scared, Phil. I'm scared of the dark."

"Well I guess I'll just have to be your nightlight then," Phil said. Dan smiled and rested his head against Phil's shoulder. They stayed like that until the doctor came for Phil, not moving or saying anything, just sitting on the bed in the dull light from the window, Dan's head on Phil's shoulder and Phil's arm around Dan's thin, fragile, broken frame.

* * *

**Hey guys, sorry for the long break with this one, I was having writers blocks. It's not as brilliant as I would like, but I thought it was better than nothing :/ hopefully. I get really insecure about my writing as you can probably tell! uh so yeah. leave me a review if you like/hate it or just to let me know how you feel about it, i love reviews xxxxx**


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX – NO BLOODSHED **

Phil was incredibly nervous in the car on the way home. He didn't know what to say, so he put the radio on and aptly enough, the song _Demons _by Imagine Dragons started playing through the stereo. In his head he was panicking about everything the doctor had said – "_It can take five seconds Mr Lester. Five seconds would be all it could take for him to kill himself" _– as well as the fact that he knew Dan was going to go majorly ape over the changes that he'd made to the flat. He could imagine it already. Dan had a tendency to be a bit of a drama queen when things didn't go his way, and Phil knew that their recent circumstances wouldn't have changed that part of him at all.

"I wanna hide the truth, I wanna shelter you," Dan sang softly, staring out of the window. "But with the beast inside, there's nowhere we can hide." He knew all the words. The one thing about that song was that when he listened to it, he remembered that he wasn't alone. He wasn't the only person on the planet feeling like he was; he wasn't the only person with a world collapsing in on itself, and he wasn't the only person who was locked in his own head with the demons which he didn't know how to exorcise.

"You haven't said anything all journey." Dan remarked as Phil pulled into their designated parking space in the flat car park.

"Sorry," Phil said. "I was concentrating on the road."

"Bullshit," snorted Dan, raising an eyebrow at Phil. "Look, if I'm being honest with you, you should really extend the same courtesy to me."

"But, Dan…" _What if I say something wrong? What if I say something that upsets you, or sets you off into a spiral of depression? The doctor said I had to be careful; to wrap you in cotton wool for the first few weeks. He said. _

"No, Phil." Dan sighed, immediately understanding why Phil was being hesitant with him. "It's when I think people are keeping things from me that I can't cope. I'd rather hear something I don't want to hear, than be constantly paranoid that you're lying to me. My head's a mess most of the time anyway; you might as well make it easier for me by just being truthful."

"Okay," Phil said after a long pause. "Go back to the start then."

"You haven't said anything all journey." Dan said with a grin that showed his dimples. Phil caught himself wondering if that was a real smile or a fake one – certainly Dan's eyes no longer sparkled when he smiled like they used to. _How did I not see that before? Because he got so good at faking that not even God would have known the difference…but I should have looked closer. Had I just looked him in the eye, maybe I'd have seen the clouded portals to hell. _

"I guess I was just worrying about your reaction to the flat," Phil admitted, looking Dan in the eyes. "I…uh…I changed some things when you were unconscious."

"Like what?" Dan looked more confused than angry. "Jeez Phil, you worry too much. Like I'd care if you moved the sofa or whatever! C'mon let's go inside, it's kind of cold out here."

"Uh…okay." Phil said, figuring it was better to let Dan discover what had changed himself rather than risking him making a scene in the car. In the lift, Phil noted how Dan studiously stared at the floor instead of the mirrors surrounding him – he was refusing to look at him own reflection because he was repulsed by it.

_But he's so beautiful. Why can't he see that? Why can't I make him see that? _

* * *

****Phil stuck his key in the lock, and tried to stop his hand shaking. _God, calm down Phil, all you did was hide a few things and move his sheets onto your bed. And take off all the locks. And throw out all of his stupid razor blades._

"Cup of coffee?" He asked in a slightly high pitched voice as they entered the hallway.

"Sure," Dan said, following Phil into the kitchen. Dan sat down on the sofa and watched as Phil went to the kettle and started preparing the coffee. He skimmed his eyes around the room, wondering what Phil had meant when he said he'd changed things. In his head, Dan had almost imagined that Phil would have covered the windows in bars and installed cameras for watching Dan every second of every day. _That's not funny Dan. He wants to help. If only he knew I'm not really helpable; or worth helping._

"Super strong or only slightly strong?" Phil asked, spoon hovering over the coffee jar.

"Uh, super strong please," Dan said.

"Good choice," Phil said, stirring the hot water into the instant coffee mix.

"Phil?" Dan said suddenly.

"Uhm…yes?" Phil asked.

"What's this?" Dan's voice sounded perplexed…but in a bad way_. In a 'please tell me this isn't true or I will chop your head off and burn it' way._

Phil turned around slowly, heart pounding as in his head he panicked – had he left a razor on the table? Oh god, please no. It was therefore with a certain amount of relief that he noticed that it wasn't a razor – just the lock to Dan's bedroom door. _Okay Phil. Stay calm and rational and do not start yelling about not being able to trust him. Restraint is useful in this kind of situation. _So instead of answering straight away, Phil picked up the coffee cups and set them down on the table.

"It's the lock to your bedroom door, Dan." Phil said quietly, looking at Dan and shrugging.

"You took the fucking lock off my fucking door?" Dan growled, springing to his feet, immediately furious.

"Looks like it." Phil said nonchalantly. Dan stood glaring at him for a moment, hands balled into fists, before he spun around and stormed out of the room. Phil followed quickly – _don't let him go anywhere alone – _slipping into Dan's room behind him. Dan stormed over to his bathroom door and yanked it open, and then turned to glare daggers at Phil again.

"Why THE FUCK have you stolen my locks?" Dan said, none too quietly.

"Dan, ssh, we have elderly neighbours," Phil said reprimanding.

"GIVE ME MY FUCKING LOCKS BACK THEN!" Dan bellowed, his face turning red with anger.

"No." Phil said quietly. "I won't. You can shout and swear at me all you like, but you're not getting them back. Anyway, I don't know why you'd want to lock a room you're not even sleeping in." Phil turned and headed away from the bathroom, relying on the fact that Dan would be too angrily curious not to follow him.

"What the hell, Phil?" Dan snapped from behind him when he finally noticed that his bed had been stripped. "Where the fuck are my things?"

"I moved them," Phil said, shrugging. "Now, if you're done with being childish and rude can we please go and talk?"

"I'm not being childish or rude!" Dan said. "You've taken my locks away from me, like I can't be trusted!"

Phil turned around, and was surprised to find Dan so close to him – clearly he hadn't been expecting his friend to turn around. Their faces were so close together that Phil could see the tiny, pale freckles on Dan's nose and he could smell the hospital smell that was stuck to his clothes, as well as the warmer, clean soap and peppermint smell that he associated with his best friend. Phil swallowed at their close proximity but met Dan's eyes; angry brown ones to sad blue ones.

"You can't, Dan." Phil said. "I hate to say it but I don't trust you. You want your privacy, sure, but why do you want it? You want to be able to lock your bedroom door so you can run in here and cut yourself. You want to be able to lock your bathroom door so you can run in there and make yourself throw up. Well tough luck Dan, I'm not letting you do that anymore."

"I fucking hate you," Dan said through clenched teeth. _No I don't, _he screamed inside his head. _Why am I saying that? _

"I don't bloody care," Phil snapped, finally losing his cool. "I don't give a_ damn_ what you feel about me as long as you're bloody well here to feel it! Now go and drink your coffee before it gets cold."

Dan swallowed, filled with guilt but too angry and scared to apologise. He nodded quickly and headed out the door towards the kitchen, aware that Phil was following him. _He wasn't going to stop sticking to him like glue…which was nice…but what about when Dan needed to cut? What about when he had to let it out and Phil was there? How was he going to get his relief? _

Dan sat down at the table and heard Phil sit down next to him but he didn't look up because he was afraid of what he would see. He wrapped his hands around the warm coffee cup in front of and tried to swallow back the tears. Now would be the moment when Phil changed him mind and sent Dan back to the hospital. Now would be the moment when the only person that hadn't given up on him, gave up on him. _I don't hate you though Phil, I love you. Even if you make me leave, which is what I deserve, I'll still love you. _

Phil looked at Dan cradling the coffee mug, and his heart went out to him. He knew that Dan hadn't mean those horrible words – _I fucking hate you – _he'd been lashing out because he was scared. He was scared because Phil had taken his lifeline away. The one thing that made him feel safe and in control had suddenly been snatched from his grasp; he was bound to be upset. So Phil ignored his hurt feelings and reached out his hand, laying it over Dan's on his coffee mug.

"You didn't mean that," Phil said softly.

"No," Dan replied. "I didn't. I'm sorry, Phil. I love you."

"You're angry, I understand." Phil said softly. "Look at me, Dan."

Dan raised his eyes from the table top, feeling totally ashamed of himself as he met the eyes of the kindest boy in the world – the boy he'd sworn at and been nasty too jut for trying to help him. _See, I'm a monster. I don't deserve him. _ Phil smiled at him softly, and Dan was trying not to think too much about the fact that Phil's soft hand was still resting on his. _Don't read too much into it, it'll only hurt you later. _

"I'm sorry that I had to take the locks off your doors, but as much as you shout and swear at me, they're staying off. I am not going to let you lock yourself away because I know exactly what you will do if you know I can't stop you. I'm sorry if that upsets you, but that's the way it's going to be."

"I understand," Dan said softly. "I do. Really. And I don't hate you, Phil, I don't."

"I know, Dan," Phil smiled and removed his hand, loosely running it through his hair. "Now, about your bed…"

"I assume you've moved me into your room," Dan sighed.

"I have," Phil answered. "You're in my bed, and I'm on the camp bed."

_If I'm sharing a room with Phil, that means he'll hear me. He'll hear me crying myself to sleep, and he'll hear me wake up screaming at three in the morning. If I share a room with Phil he'll realise I'm even more pathetic than he already thinks I am. If I share a room with Phil, that will be my last fiercely guarded secret out in the open. _

"No…n…" Dan stuttered, shoving himself up from the table. "No!"

"Dan it wasn't up for discussion…" Phil had stood up too, but he wasn't quick enough to stop Dan bolting for the door. He also wasn't quick enough to stop Dan from reaching his room first, and slamming the door shut. He pounded on the door, suddenly feeling foolish as he heard Dan tugging the chest of drawers in front of it. The chest of drawers had wheels and it was large and metal – it was easy enough for Dan to use as a barricade, but Phil knew there was no way of him getting in there. _I'm such an idiot. Why didn't I think of that? _

He could hear Dan scrambling around in his room, and his heart was racing because he was stuck outside and there was nothing he could do to stop Dan if he tried to hurt himself. _I just bloody hope Chris and PJ did a good enough job._

"Dan." He called through the door. "Dan, let me in." There was no reply, just more frantic scrabbling.

* * *

_Where are they? Where. Are. My. Fucking. Razors?_

Dan yanked up his mattress, scanning for the hidden razors that he had taped to the mattress slats – but they weren't there. The ones in the bottom of his wardrobe were gone too, as were the ones in his drawers – even the one that he'd taped to the outside of the window was missing. Struggling to breathe, Dan sank to the floor in the middle of the room, his hands clawing desperately at the carpet.

_I need to cut._

_I need to cut._

_Where are my razors? Phil has them. I need to get them back. _

_It's too much. It's too dark in here, they're too loud, I can't tune them out. I…I CAN'T sleep in Phil's room. He'll find out about me. He'll know that I cry like a girl, he'll know that I have nightmares about life. He'll know that I'm not saveable. He'll leave. He'll leave me all alone, he'll leave me in a pool of my own blood, and he'll leave me here to die. I can't breathe. I need to breathe, oh god. _

Tears were streaming down Dan's face as he knelt on the carpet, one arm locked around himself as the other desperately searched under his bookcase for a razor. _They're all gone. I'm all alone. They've left me here alone. I need my anaesthetic. I need to stop feeling like this. I need goddamn release. _

_Knives, kitchen knives. _

Too overcome with the panic of desperation, Dan shoved his cabinet out of the way, and yanked open the door, barrelling straight into an anxious Phil. Phil scanned Dan's face and could tell from the frenzied look on it that he hadn't found any razors._ He hadn't got his pain relief. _

"Give them back," Dan sobbed as Phil's arms locked in place around him. "Give me them back, Phil!"

"No," Phil said, trying to keep a hold of Dan's writhing body.

"I NEED THEM." Dan screeched, viciously elbowing Phil in the stomach. Phil released Dan, shocked at the sudden pain in his stomach. He was back up in a second, but in that second Dan was already in the kitchen, yanking open the drawers in a desperate search for knives. Phil arrived in the room, breathless and panting, as Dan slammed the drawers shut. He was floundering in the middle of the room, shaking with fear as his eyes searched for something, anything, anything. _I need to. I need to. _

_Help me._

_Save me._

Phil gave up on the idea of trying to restrain Dan with his arms and instead came up behind the panicking boy and kicked his legs out from beneath him, so he landed in a heap on the floor. Feeling guilty when he heard Dan making an 'oof' of pain, Phil threw himself on top of Dan, pinning him to the floor.

"Get off me," Dan howled, trying to free his legs which were pinned down by Phil's weight. "Phil you DON'T UNDERSTAND!"

"I don't care," muttered Phil, thinking ironically that they should invent a new workout called 'Attempt to stop Dan self-harming' – it was definitely the most physically exerting thing he'd done in a while. _If I don't make jokes about it, I'm going to cry. He's so desperate, it's scary. And painful to watch. C'mon Dan. You can do this. You are strong enough to do this. _

After about ten minutes of kicking, swearing, rolling and writhing, Dan let his upper body collapse onto the floor, and simply lay sobbing into the carpet. Phil's hand lightly stroked the back of his hair as his calm voice whispered soothing things into the now silent apartment. All Dan could hear was his own frantic breathing and his heart was beating violently against the floor. Phil moved slowly off Dan's legs, and sat Dan up, wrapping both of his arms around the thin boy.

Dan shut his eyes and leant his head against Phil's shoulder, taking deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to breathe normally again. His face was damp with tears and sweat, and he felt Phil's warm fingers on his cheek, gently wiping the tears away. He felt drained and exhausted; pathetic and weak; stupid and embarrassed. He'd made a fool out of himself, crying and yelling and demanding razors. _And elbowing Phil. _

But as he sat leaning against Phil, he realised that for the first time, his urge to cut had passed without the need to give his demons the blood that they demanded. For the first time, a battle had been won without any bloodshed.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN - SOMEONE LIKE ME**

With an extreme feeling of déjà vu, Phil set two cups of coffee on the table. An hour had passed since he had last performed that act, but this time Dan was sat at the table instead of having a massive freak out. He was finally tranquil, and had agreed that he was ready to talk to Phil. _Finally. After all this time. _

Phil sat down in the seat right next to Dan, as it seemed that when Dan had started to get upset his touch had been some kind of comfort. Dan looked up and smiled at him, a small, embarrassed smile. He didn't understand why or how Phil was still there; and still trying to look after him. He'd acted like a complete freak, crying and sobbing and desperately trying to cut himself. He was so pathetic it was unbelievable.

"I'm sorry," Dan mumbled awkwardly, running a hand through his hair and wishing he had the power to erase memories, or turn back time. _Anything to prevent Phil having seen the embarrassingly pathetic show that occurred on practically every day of Dan's life. _

"You've done nothing wrong." Phil said gently. _Feeling pain is not a crime._

"I elbowed you," Dan replied, his eyes dropping to the table. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You were panicking." Phil justified. "And it hurts me more that you've been hurting yourself for months and keeping it from me. If you're in the mood for apologising, you could always start with that. I…I thought you trusted me." Dan's face screwed up at that comment, and his guilt multiplied. _As if it wasn't already too big for his body._

"I do trust you, Phil." Dan whispered. "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for keeping it from you, and not asking for help."

"Why didn't you?" Phil asked, trying to keep his tone soft. _Gently does it. Don't scare him. You want the truth, don't you? Don't get angry or frustrated, just let him talk. _

"Because I was scared," Dan said, meeting Phil's eyes. Phil could see pain, and he could see fear but he could also see a glint of something new…confidence, perhaps. _Or desperation. _"I was scared that if you knew what I do, if you knew how fucking messed up I am, that you would leave. And I was scared of that."

"You thought that of me?" Phil asked, his heart dropping to his stomach. Dan thought that of him? He thought he would _leave _because Dan was hurting? _Am I really that bad a person? _

"No! No, Phil." Dan threw his hands up in the air as if the action could stop Phil's thought process. "Not of you, Phil. It was never about you, really. It…it was about me." His eyes had filled with tears now, and his voice was choked, like he couldn't get the words out. _I don't think I can talk about this. These are my secret thoughts, the ones I hide away from everyone. _

"Take your time," Phil whispered, and impulsively he seized Dan's hands in his, rubbing his thumbs up and down on Dan's palms. His mum used to do that when he was a kid, and it had always made him feel better. Maybe it would help Dan now, or maybe Dan's hurt was just too big to fix that easily. Dan nodded and shut his eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths as he tried to control his emotion. _Don't cry, you idiot._ "I can wait all afternoon, if you just trust me enough to talk."

_You've been crying out for help for months, but nobody could hear. Nobody was listening. Now someone is listening, so just talk, Dan. Tell him everything and to hell with the consequences. If this is the only shot at being fixed, seize it and never let go. _

_Unless Phil lets go first. _

"It was about me," Dan said finally. "It was all me. I couldn't see how anybody would want to stay with me. I don't even want to be around m…myself, so I didn't know why anybody else would. That's why I didn't tell you, Phil. I didn't tell you because I'm f…fucking messed up and I knew that if I were you Phil, I would be gone already. You're amazing – you've got a d…degree, and you're smart and you get everything done on time and you never break promises. Me? I dropped out of university because I'm a lazy arsehole, I'm painfully stupid and socially awkward and my fans hate me half the time because I can't give them what they want w…when I say I'll have it done b…by. I hate myself, Phil. But don't you dare think that has anything to do with you, because it doesn't. It's what's in here, in my head. D…demons, Phil. Lots of them. And they tell me that someone like you shouldn't be living with someone like me. Someone like you shouldn't be anywhere near someone like me." Dan's voice broke properly on the last sentence, and his tears overflowed, streaming down his cheeks.

_Cutting would help with this pain. He needed it, like he needed air to breathe. It was the thing that kept him together when he was falling apart at the seams. It was the one thing that numbed the pain and kept him sane. _But now, with Phil's thumbs gently rubbing the palms of his hands, he was almost distracted from the desperate urge. Almost.

"But what people think is not always the truth, Dan." Phil said, feeling his own tears building up. _So much pain, for someone so young. How did I never notice? I didn't look closely enough; I assumed he was okay because he laughed a lot and was loud and smiley. I should've looked closer and realised that his previous reality had become his disguise – his old self was merely a mask for the new, tortured one. _"You think that someone like me shouldn't be living with someone like you, but I don't think that. Sometimes, Dan, and I never thought I'd have to tell you this, but sometimes I'm jealous of you."

"M…me?" Dan hiccoughed, still crying; still hurting; still wanting to cut. _Still holding on but barely breathing. _

"You're handsome. You have so many more subscribers than I do. When we go out sometimes, people mob you and they don't even recognise me. I'm just the shorter, fatter, uglier sidekick to the amazingly handsome, funny Dan Howell." _Phil, why did you just tell him that? Those thoughts are stupid and silly. And private. _

"Don't say that!" Dan said, and he sounded angry. He snatched his hands away from Phil, and they balled into fists. He looked like an angry toddler, hands fisted, tears sparkling on his cheeks and a pout that was prize worthy. "Don't you dare say stuff like that!"

Phil shrugged and met Dan's eyes.

"Maybe that's how I feel about myself sometimes," he said casually. "But that's not how you feel about me, is it?"

"No!" Dan said loudly. "I think you're amazing…you're…" Phil pressed his finger to Dan's lips, stopping him in his tracks. Phil wasn't compliment fishing; he was trying to make a point.

"Well then, look at the situation," Phil said. "_You _think bad things about yourself and that makes them true. But when I think bad things about myself, that's not allowed to be true. It's all your own perception Dan, how you see yourself in your head. And you're _wrong._"

"You're wrong," Dan mumbled. "You're not my shorter, fatter, uglier sidekick."

"I know." Phil said simply. "I know I'm not. It feels like I am, sometimes, but that doesn't make it true, does it?" Dan was staring obstinately at the wall, not replying. Phil knew it was because his words were making sense, and he knew that Dan didn't want to accept the possibility that he wasn't as awful as he believed he was.

"Look at me, Dan." Phil said firmly. After a moment, Dan dragged his eyes onto Phil's. "That doesn't make it true, does it Dan?"

Slowly but surely, Dan shook his head. A quick jerk to the left and a quick jerk to the right. Almost impossible to notice, but nonetheless it was an acknowledgement that Phil was right. Which could only mean one thing – _Dan was wrong. _Phil realised that he would have to take it slowly- there was no way that he could get Dan to stop hating himself in one day, and if he rushed it, Dan would get defensive and retreat into himself which would only be counterproductive. So Phil decided to drop it there – the foundation had been established, but this building would be a slow, careful process.

"Okay," Phil said, as he leant forwards and brushed the remaining tears from the perfect face in front of him. "Enough of that. When did all of this start?"

"When I first started university," Dan said. "So about nine months. Maybe ten. I can't remember exactly." He shrugged, as if it didn't even matter. Which Phil supposed it didn't matter – because all that mattered now was that they were both sat at the table attempting to fix whatever had gone wrong.

"Why?" Phil asked bluntly. _Way to go with the subtly Philip. _

"P…some people were laughing at me a lot." Dan said quietly. "At first I just brushed it off. But then I got lonely. And they got louder and louder, until their horrible words weren't only in their mouths, but they were in my head too. But they were worse in my head too, and constant. There was no escape, Phil. I…I was losing myself. It was an accident, the first time. T…there was some broken glass and I was walking back from the library alone, because some guys had started up in there. I tripped and c…cut my hand. It h…hurt, Phil and I knew then, I knew that it was hurting me because I deserved it to. I deserved to h…hurt and then I needed to, just to r…remind myself that I was real. It was like p…pain relief. I t…tried to stop, Phil I did so many times. But I couldn't."

"Okay," Phil said. "Okay." _Okay. Okay. It's not okay. _"Tell me their names." _Tell me their fucking names so I can go and punch their fucking teeth down their throats._

"No." Dan said automatically, noticing a strange look that he had seen before but never in Phil's eyes. It was a look of violence, and it was out of place on his precious, cute, pacifist Phil.

"Tell me their fucking names," Phil growled, feeling the anger pumping through him. _I'll rip out their lying tongues. I'll make them regret even breathing his blessed name. _

"Phil, stop it." Dan said breathily. _Phil swore. PHIL SWORE. _"Don't. Don't do this, because then they'll have changed you too. Phil. Stop." Dan placed his hand on Phil's face in a confused and desperate attempt to get rid of his anger…and it worked. With Dan's touch and his words, Phil swallowed and Dan saw the anger and violence fade from the blue eyes in which the whole world was contained.

"Sorry," Phil said as Dan removed his hand. "I just…I can't stand the thought of anyone doing that to you. I can't stand it." Phil took a fortifying swig of his coffee, trying to keep his mind away from the fact that when Dan had touched his face it had sent chills down his spine. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "And this not eating thing, when did that start and why?"

"That was more recent," Dan said slowly. "I…I. I don't even know anymore, Phil. I just thought if I stopped being fat, that would make me feel better inside. But it didn't. Nothing did, but you."

"And not even that worked, did it?" Phil said sadly, biting his lip.

"Only because you weren't always there." Dan shrugged. "It wasn't your fault, Phil. I just…I just get scared."

"Of what, Dan?"

"Losing you," Dan whispered. "I'm scared that one day you'll meet a girl and you'll marry her and forget about me. You're really one of the only people that I have left and I know I can't keep you forever. But I want to. And when I think about a future without you, that's when I get scared."

_Did I seriously just tell him that? I'm such a moron. What happened to keeping your secrets close, Dan? Just rip yourself bare, show him everything. That's such a brilliant idea. Make yourself even more vulnerable why don't you. _

Suddenly Phil laughed, breaking Dan's destructive downwards spiral. Dan looked at him, confused. What was so funny about his deepest, most painful secret?

"Dan, you dolt!" Phil said, looking properly happy for the first time in the last two days. "I'm not going to meet a girl and get married, because I'm _gay. _I'm GAY, Dan!"

"You…you're gay?"

"I thought you knew," Phil smirked at him. "I thought it was obvious."

"I didn't know," Dan said. _Don't get your hopes up, Dan. That's dangerous territory. _

"Well, I guess we've both learnt more about each other then," Phil said, smiling. "And be safe in the knowledge Dan that for as long as you want me here, I'll be here. I couldn't imagine life without you anymore. I don't even know what I was doing with myself before you came along…languishing in boredom probably. You're my best friend and I love you, and I am going to tell you that every single day until you start believing it."

"Okay," Dan smiled weakly. He felt exhausted from all of the talking and crying. _I'm such a girl. _

"Come here," Phil said, opening his arms. Dan stood up and leant into Phil's hug, feeling safe and warm as his best friend's arms formed a protective cage around him. _I could stay like this forever. _Phil pressed the side of his face against Dan's soft hair, and tried to ignore the bones jutting out of his shoulders. "Thank you for being honest with me Dan. I know it can't have been easy."

"Hardest thing I've ever done." Dan mumbled in Phil's ear.

"I'm proud of you." Phil said softly. "So, so proud."

"Phil?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for everything," Dan whispered gently. "For the first time in a while, I actually think we could be going somewhere good."

"I don't know when, and I don't know how. But together, we're going to make this okay." Phil promised.

"I think we can," Dan whispered, experiencing hope more powerful than he ever thought possible in the last few months.

Phil smiled, a big, beaming smile and he felt Dan smiling next to him, and he wished right then that they could stay embracing one another in that hopeful mood for the rest of time. _Because he knew that soon, he faced the next big challenge…trying to make Dan eat. He was prepared for war. _

**_Please read and review. If you have any questions, requests for other fics etc, just send me an ask on tumblr : search me, my name is lunaticphan xx_**


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT – THE CORNER **

Dan was sat in the corner of the living room on his laptop, brainstorming ideas for a new video. He was slumped in the 'internet position', with his headphones in his ears and an intense look of extreme concentration of his face. Phil was sat across the room from him, also trying to sort out his next video, but failing because his eyes kept focusing on Dan.

The one thing that was killing Phil was not being able to know exactly what was going on inside Dan's head. He didn't know if Dan was happy in that moment, or at least content. He could be falling to pieces inside, and Phil wouldn't know. If only he could have a speech bubble above his head informing Phil of his internal thoughts and feelings…so if they were bad, Phil could fix them. And he wanted to fix them so much it felt incredibly necessary.

Swallowing, Phil tried to drag his attention back to his video editing but instead ended up aimlessly browsing websites about depression and self-harm, looking for any kind of new information or miraculous cure. He knew he wouldn't find one, but all he wanted was to make Dan full and whole again without struggle and pain for both of them.

"Phil?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?" Dan asked, stretching and shutting his laptop lid. He was bored. _Bored, bored, bored. _

"Oh…just editing," Phil said, clicking the depression page he was on down, bringing up his editing tab. "Why?"

"I'm bored."

"You're supposed to be working," Phil said, smiling affectionately at Dan over the top of his laptop. "You always do this, Dan. You start working, get bored, stop and then leave your fans waiting for days and days for you next video."

"But…Phil…" Dan whined.

"Look, I'm nearly done on mine. Five minutes and I'm uploading. Then I'll help you with yours, okay?" Phil was already clicking the editing tabs. Dan sighed and stretched.

"But I don't _want _to do it," Dan muttered.

"Well that's too bad, Dan," Phil replied. "You need to, it's your job and you can't let your fans down. I said I'd help you. Isn't everything more fun with me around?"

"Yes." Phil was joking, but Dan's reply was serious, and they both knew it was.

As Dan watched Phil finishing editing from across the room, all he could think about was his confession earlier that day…he was gay. So he was never going to leave Dan for a girl and marry her and have children. That was good. _But…he'll meet another guy eventually. And that will be worse than him meeting another girl. Because…because at least if he was straight, then I could tell myself that was why he didn't like me. Now, I have no excuse. Now, when he leaves me, it'll only be because of me. Because I'm not good enough for him, because I never could be…_

Dan was jolted out of his spiral of thought by Phil's fingers on his chin, turning his face to look at him. Phil had a look of concern on his face, and Dan wondered how he hadn't noticed Phil move. Phil's blue eyes looked deep into Dan's brown ones, trying somehow to decipher his thoughts from his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Phil asked, moving his fingers when he had Dan's attention. _No, don't let go. I liked it. I liked your touch. _

"Oh…uh…huh?" Dan stuttered, coughing awkwardly. "Wrong? Nothing's wrong."

"You just zoned out," Phil said. "I said your name twice and you were just sat there staring out of the window."

"Oh, right," Dan said, blinking because Phil's intense stare was starting to worry him…_what if he can tell what I'm thinking? _"I'm just tired, sorry." It wasn't a lie, he _was_ tired. It just wasn't the whole truth – but Phil had never asked him for that. All Phil had asked was for him not to lie. And he _hadn't._

"Early night then," Phil said, shrugging it off. He knew Dan was tired, but he knew that something else was going on too. But he didn't want to push it today. He'd had enough stress earlier when Dan had kicked off about sharing a room…_and what was all that about, anyway? _Phil had no idea why it was such an issue, but he supposed he'd find out in due course.

They spent the next two hours working on Dan's video, until he had a pretty good idea and sketchy script so he could start filming. Dan had laughed a lot during the planning stage, and Phil had done his best to fill the time with talking and jokes – he didn't want to give Dan the chance to slip back into whatever thought process he'd been having earlier. Dan stood up suddenly, stretching and moving to the other end of the room to fetch the camera.

"Dan?" Phil said softly, while Dan was gathering his laptop.

"Yep?" Dan looked up expectantly, his arms full of the electronics he needed to film his video.

"Film in here, please."

It was worded like a request, but Phil's tone had a firmness to it that was foreign to Dan. Normally Dan was in charge, telling Phil what to do. But now, things had changed. Dan could tell that even if he attempted to film elsewhere, it wouldn't be allowed. He knew immediately that not even having a massive fit was going to persuade Phil to let him out of his sight, so with a sigh, he threw himself back down on the sofa, muttering under his breath.

"Thank you," Phil whispered, so quietly Dan almost didn't hear it. But he did hear it, and he smiled despite himself as he started to set up the camera. _At least he sort of cares. Sort of. _

While Dan was making his video in one corner, Phil started to make the dinner as quietly as he could; allowing the happy tone of Dan's video voice to wash over him…it was nice to hear, even if it was just put on for the camera. Following the advice of the doctor he took care to make sure that the meal was healthy – chicken, boiled potatoes and vegetables. Dr Fraser had been keen to emphasise that Dan was more likely to eat healthy food than not, whilst telling Phil he might seriously struggle to get Dan to eat. **"**_But remember, Mr Lester. The important thing is to not let him out of your sight for a good hour after eating. Once that hour has passed, even if he throws up, most of the valuable nutrients will have already been absorbed." _

"Dan?" Phil said, noticing that Dan had stopped talking and was clicking on things instead. "Uhm…Dinner is ready." Phil was prepared for Dan to start making excuses, like he wasn't hungry or he ate earlier or he didn't feel well. He completely expected Dan to try and refuse to eat, but Phil was sure of one thing – he was going to make Dan eat his dinner, whether he liked it or not.

"Cool," Dan said, shutting the laptop and standing up, heading to the table. Phil tried to keep the look of shock off his face as he set the plates on the table and sat down. _What is going on? _Dan tucked into his dinner, eating all of the food on his plate without any kind of obvious hesitation. Between bites of his own dinner, Phil watched him in confusion. He knew that eating disorders didn't just cure themselves overnight because somebody found out about them. That would be ridiculous…but then, why else was Dan eating his food as happily as any normal, healthy person? When they finished eating, Phil picked up the plates and turned to put them in the dishwasher.

He'd probably only turned around for ten seconds but when he turned back around to suggest they watch a film, Dan was already gone_. _Cursing himself under his breath for being so stupid, Philturned and ran to Dan's room, just in time to grab his arm, halting the boy on his way into the bathroom.

"What are you doing, Phil?" Dan said nonchalantly, trying to look confused. "Did you want to come to the toilet with me?"

"That's not funny," Phil snapped. "I know what you were about to do."

"Go away Phil," Dan replied fiercely. "I just need a piss."

"Fine," Phil said. "Go then. But I'm staying right here. And if I so much as hear a single sick noise, I'm cooking you more food and tying you to a chair until you eat it."

Dan stared at Phil for a moment, searching the suddenly hard face for some sign that he was joking…and found none.

"I…uh…I don't need it anymore." Dan said, before leading the way out of the room, deflated. _Now I'm going to get fat and I'll be even uglier, and then Phil won't want to help me anymore because he'll look at me and see the disgusting freak that I am._

* * *

Dan was lying in Phil's bed, and the clock next to it read the time as 03.30. Dan had not been to sleep. He was deliberately lying on his back, because he could never sleep on his back, and scrolling through his Tumblr dashboard whilst listening to Phil's soft breathing. Phil was peacefully asleep, his face towards Dan as he smiled softly in his dream. Dan was envious of the peaceful sleep; the oblivion to life that allowed you to escape for hours at a time.

But Dan couldn't go to sleep in the same room as Phil. Because he knew that if he started screaming next to Phil, even if he did manage to muffle it with a pillow like usual, Phil would wake up. Phil was a light sleeper, so much so that a cough could wake him up. Panic stricken screams would be sure to have him awake in moments, and then Dan's final embarrassing secret would be out.

So Dan had decided he just wasn't going to sleep. As he lay there awake, his self-hatred was all consuming. When Phil had finally allowed him to go to the toilet alone – with a warning that his arms and legs would be checked for fresh cuts – he had immediately shoved his fingers down his throat, but nothing solid had come up. He'd sat by the toilet bowl trying and trying, and pathetically sobbing, as he brought up nothing but water. It was too late; so now he had a load of stupid calories inside him. _Fat Dan. Fat, ugly, stupid, lanky Dan. Tired fat ugly Dan. _

Dan yawned silently into the pillow and opened up his E-reader app, choosing a book to read to distract himself from the thoughts. Mainly because he knew that if he dwelt on them too much he would be compelled to get up and cut…and Phil had made it clear that if he found out Dan had been cutting he would have even less privacy than he already did. And that was saying something. Flicking to the first page of the book, Dan resolved that tomorrow, to solve the problem of today, he would just refuse to eat. It wasn't like Phil could _make _him.

* * *

When Phil woke up in the morning, Dan was already awake, lying on his side. Phil smiled sleepily at him and Dan smiled back, trying not to look like he had just pulled an all-nighter. That would be kind of hard to explain.

"Morning," Phil yawned, sitting up. _He looks so adorable with bed hair. _"You haven't made an escape then."

"I didn't want to wake you," Dan said, smiling sheepishly. "I knew you'd wake up if I tried that."

"True," Phil said happily as he rolled out of bed. "You should go have a shower, while I make breakfast."

"Okay," Dan agreed. He got out of bed and made his way towards the door, having to step over Phil's camp bed to escape.

"Dan?" Phil said, pausing as he dug a t-shirt out of his cabinet. Dan turned to look at him, a question on his face. "I'll be checking, you know. So don't even think about it. Unless you want us to start showering together too," he winked jokingly at Dan, clearly unaware of the effect his words would have. "But all jokes aside, Dan_, don't_ do that to me. Please."

"I won't," Dan promised. "I like to take showers alone, thanks."

"Yeah so nobody can hear your dreadful singing…" Phil shot back, sticking his tongue out.

"Yeah, you can still hear it though Phil," Dan laughed, heading out of the room.

Dan showered quickly, allowing the hot water to drench the body he hated so much. _Maybe I should just cut now and then Phil will shower with me…_but Dan didn't feel much like cutting right then. Because Phil had asked him not to do that to him. He could do it for Phil. He didn't want to see the disappointment in his eyes, as he realised Dan was only ever going to screw things up._ Dan could not cut himself when Phil asked him not to…but when he asked himself not to? Not a chance. Because Phil was worth everything, and Dan nothing. _

Dan ran his fingers lightly over the scars on his lower thighs, feeling the soft, smooth skin. It was funny how they were soft now. When he'd done them, they had been angry, jagged, bleeding cuts. Now they were healed. He'd stopped cutting his thighs because it took too much effort – he'd needed immediate release and cutting his legs wasn't practical when he always wore skinny jeans. His arms were now riddled with the ironically soft scars…and of course his fresh cuts which were now starting to scab over. He ran his finger down the bumpy, bunched skin and shut his eyes.

_Could he give it up for good? Was he strong enough to do that? _

Even for Phil, he wasn't so sure. Not in the long run.

He was up through the night, and he was fighting to walk towards the light, but the road on which he walked was a slippery one…slippery with his own blood and tears.

* * *

"Hobbit hair," Phil remarked as Dan walked into the kitchen, pulling a hooded top on to cover his arms.

"Yeah I figured you'd come and check on me if I took too long so I didn't straighten my hair," Dan explained, catching Phil's suddenly pointed glare. "Oh, right, sorry. Forgot." Dan shoved the hooded top back off and showed Phil his arms. With some difficulty he then proceeded to roll up his skinny jeans, allowing Phil to check his legs. He swallowed, blushing again. He felt so ashamed showing Phil his scars. So weak and pathetic and ugly.

Phil saw the tears in Dan's eyes and with a lump in his own throat, he impulsively knelt down and kissed the lines of scars on Dan's legs, pressing his lips gently on the skin and then removing them. He stood up and kissed the scars on Dan's arms too, like some kind of strange ritual.

"Don't be ashamed, Dan," Phil whispered, taking hold of Dan's upper arms. "These scars are battle scars, okay? All that they show is that you survived." Phil pulled Dan into a hug. "Okay?" He repeated.

"Okay," Dan whispered, trying not to pay too much attention to the chills running up and down his spine…_Phil had kissed him. Four times. _

* * *

"Here we go…" Phil said, putting a plate of pancakes and bananas in front of Dan. "I didn't even warm them up, because I know you like them better cold."

"Thanks," Dan said, staring down at the plate of food. Inside, a battle was raging. _If you refuse to eat it, you're going to upset Phil. But if you do eat it, Phil won't let you go to the bathroom and throw it back up. And if you can't throw it up, you'll get fat. _He could feel bile rising up in his throat at even the idea of eating the food in front of him, and he could feel himself starting to sweat.

Phil sat down with his plate and immediately started tucking into the pancakes. He looked expectantly up at Dan and Dan smiled at him.

"Have…have we got any chocolate sauce?" Dan asked innocently.

"For breakfast?" Phil asked, grinning and shaking his head as he stood up.

"Says you!" Dan scoffed, watching Phil keenly for the second he turned his back. "Didn't you eat a bowl of Skittles for breakfast the other week?"

"Maybe," Phil grinned, turning around with the chocolate sauce in his hand. He came back to the table and handed the sauce to Dan…as he sat down, the smile faded from his face. "Dan."

"What?" Dan said, raising an eyebrow and opening the chocolate sauce.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Phil said flatly.

"No, why?" Dan pulled his best 'what the hell are you talking about' face.

"Daniel, get the pancake from wherever you have hidden it and put it on your plate," Phil said, clenching his teeth.

"Oh what, so you want me to throw up now?" Dan said in a jokey tone. "Wouldn't that be counterproductive?"

"This is your last chance Dan, or I'm going to get mad." Phil snapped at him. "Get the freaking pancake and put it back on your plate _right _now or so help me."

Dan swallowed. He hadn't counted on Phil seeing through him that quickly, or getting angry. Realising that he'd ruined the good mood from moments before he slipped the pancake out of his napkin and put it back on his plate.

_Way to ruin a good thing Dan. But then again, that's what you're good at isn't it? You could win a prize for the biggest fuck up of all time. _

"Now eat it," Phil instructed as he finished his own food.

The way Dan saw it, he'd already ruined things that morning, and he really didn't want to eat the food. The idea of it was simply making him want to retch, and he knew that once it was inside him, there was no way of getting it out. So, looking Phil full in the eyes with a defiant glint in his eyes, he pushed the plate away from him and leant back in his chair, folding his arms.

"Dan, look. Please can you eat it? For me?" Phil said, feeling himself losing the will to continue. _Why did he have to be so damn difficult? Because he's ill, Phil. Cut him some slack, he can't help it. Much._

"Uh…sorry. I'm just not that hungry right now..." Dan said casually with a slight shrug. He said that a lot. It was the easiest excuse to use; the one that needed the least explaining. "So…what are we doing today?"

"You're not doing anything until you've eaten your breakfast," Phil replied firmly.

"Well I'm not hungry," Dan retorted.

"You have to be hungry," Phil growled. "You haven't eaten in hours!"

"Oh well."

"Dan!"

"Oh just FUCK OFF, Phil, will you?" Dan yelled. "It's MY body NOT YOURS, I can do what I like with it!"

He glared at Phil across the table, breathing heavily. He was angry, but in his head he knew he shouldn't be shouting at Phil. He didn't miss the pained, hurt look in Phil's eyes either. But he couldn't eat the pancake. Not even for Phil. _He just couldn't. _

"No, I won't." Phil said calmly. "You told the hospital personnel that you wanted me to be your primary carer. Has that changed, Dan? Would you like me to drive you back to the hospital now? Because that's what I will have to do, if you won't let me help you. I love you too much to sit back and allow you to keep doing this to yourself."

"I don't want that," Dan whispered, his brown eyes fearful. "I…I just can't eat it. I can't, Phil."

"Fine," Phil said, standing up. He'd just about lost any patience that he had left, and was channelling everything that he had just to stay calm. He grabbed Dan's upper arm and pulled him up, leading him over to the corner. "You can stand here until you want to eat your breakfast."

"What the hell, Phil?" Dan said, trying to step out of the corner. Phil stepped in front of him. "I'm not a kid!"

"Well you're behaving like one," Phil snapped. "When my brother wouldn't eat, my mum made him stand in the corner and in the end he learnt to goddamn eat his food. So you can bloody well stand there until you eat." _Woah Phil, rein it in with the bad language already. _

"Phil!" Dan whined, pouting. "Don't make me stand in the corner."

"You don't have to stand in the corner," Phil said gently, "if you eat your food."

"Fuck you," muttered Dan, turning around so he was facing the corner.

"Not right now," Phil quipped. "You have to stand still when you're in the corner." And Phil walked off, leaving Dan to stand in the corner. He got out his laptop and switched it on, not putting his headphones in, just in case Dan decided he was going to eat after all. That was the thing with the corner – it was the most boring place in the world. And Dan and boredom had never been a good combination. He got bored after ten minutes of nothing to do; Phil could only hope that the time between breakfast and lunch would be too much for Dan to bear.

Sure enough, ten minutes in and Dan was starting to jig his leg up and down and make huffing noises.

"Phil?"

"Yes?" Phil paused in his typing.

"Can I come out now, please?" Dan said in a pathetic voice.

"If you eat your breakfast."

Dan rested his head against the wall and groaned. He proceeded to ask Phil every ten minutes for the following three hours whether or not he could come out of the corner, but each time the answer was the same.

"Phil?"

""If you eat your breakfast," Phil repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, not even taking his eyes off the computer screen now.

"No, I wasn't going to ask that," Dan said, kicking his foot lightly against the wall.

"Okay, fine, what is it?"

"I'm sorry I told you to fuck off," he murmured to the wall.

"I forgive you," Phil said, standing up and stretching.

"Can I come out now?"

"You can if you help me make lunch," Phil said as he scraped Dan's breakfast into the bin. "But if you don't eat your lunch, you're going straight back to the corner."

"Yes mum," muttered Dan as he turned around. Phil handed him the bread and butter as he took the sandwich fillings out of the fridge. Dan buttered the bread, sure of only one thing. There was no way in hell he would last even five more minutes in that boring corner.

And so, Dan ate his sandwich. Phil watched him eat it with a smile on his face. True, it did take much longer than it took anyone else to eat a sandwich, and Dan did keep needing to drink and swallow at the same time, but nevertheless he did eat it. _And that was all that mattered._

"Daniel, I'm so proud of you." He said as Dan swallowed the last mouthful.

"Don't be," Dan said, with a huge yawn. "I only ate it because the corner is a worse alternative to being fat."

"You aren't fat Dan," Phil said softly. "You're skin and bone."

Dan shook his head and sighed. Knowing that he couldn't convince Dan otherwise, Phil stood up and got their coats, throwing Dan his.

"Where are we going?" he asked as he slipped his hands inside the black jacket.

"I'm taking you to the cinema," Phil replied. "To make up for your wasted morning."

"So you think you need to make it up to me?" Dan asked, following Phil. "That means you think you were wrong, right?"

"Not wrong. I just feel a bit guilty because I know you hate being bored," Phil replied. "But Dan, that doesn't mean that I won't do it again and again and again until you start eating."

* * *

In the dark cinema, Phil couldn't concentrate on the film, because Dan's head was resting on his shoulder. It felt nice, and right, and perfect. _But you can't touch Dan now. He's too broken; he doesn't know who he is or what he wants. He needs you. It wouldn't be fair. _So Phil just rested his head against Dan's and thought how ironic it was that his biggest success of the day had been persuading someone to eat a sandwich.

**Leave me a reviw, let me know what you think :) it makes me happy. **

**uh-non-uh-miss : i tried to remember. sorry if i forgot to do it right with some of them :P **

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	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE - PILLS**

Dan could hear Phil's gentle breathing across from him in the dark, and it was harder to stay calm than it had been the previous night. It was two in the morning and Dan was feeling slightly delirious from exhaustion, and entirely disgusted with himself. He knew he shouldn't have given in and eaten that sandwich, or half of the dinner that Phil cooked him, but he couldn't cope with the look on Phil's face and he could cope with the boredom of standing in the corner even less. He needed to find some way of hiding the food better. He _needed _to stop eating so much because he was disgusting, and he could feel it all the more when he ate.

He could see Phil's face dimly lit by the light from the crack in the door, and although he knew it was wrong of him, all he could feel was anger and envy towards the amazing man that was so close to him. Phil had everything; and Dan nothing. In no way could Dan fathom the fairness of that – except of course, the explanation lay in the fact that Phil deserved to be happy. _And you don't make him happy. _

_You're upsetting him every single day – by refusing to eat, by making it necessary for him to look at your scars. You are the reason he looks so worried all the time and you are the reason that he frets about mealtimes and doesn't go out when people call. _

Dan rested his head on his knees, allowing his tears to soak into the thin duvet he'd wrapped around himself. He knew that he was selfish to stay and ask Phil to care for him, but he also knew he wasn't strong enough to do the right thing and leave. Which was bad, because every single time he saw Phil's eyes haze over with concern, he wanted to punish himself for causing that. _He wanted to hurt; because then at least it would be equal. Dan hurt Phil; and then in return, Dan hurt Dan. _

_But that wasn't allowed. _

It had only been days, of course, since his last release. But it felt like years. It felt like he was a drowning man whose life raft had been snatched from him when he needed it the most. And he was slipping, oh god, he knew he was.

It had always been a matter of time. Like when he tried to give up. It hadn't ever lasted long – hours, days, maybe a week or two if he was incredibly lucky and more content than normal. But in the end, it never lasted. And it wouldn't this time, he could feel it. Every single time he'd seen Phil's face change, it had hurt inside…and it was building up and building up until he'd need to cut just to stop the voices in his head. Or rather the voice, in the singular tense. _His _voice.

He linked his fingers together, as if he could keep himself in that position by mere finger power alone. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes. He only needed to last six more hours and he would've made it through another night.

_Just six more hours. _

* * *

"For God's sake Dan, just eat the stupid sandwich!" Phil growled from the sofa, glaring at the back of the lankly boy slumped in the corner. Dan's breakfast was in the bin, and his lunch had been sat on the table for an hour. Unlike yesterday, Phil's patience was wearing incredibly thin.

"No."

"Dan why are you doing this?" Phil asked, shoving his book aside in frustration and standing up. "I thought we'd turned a corner yesterday."

"Yes, exactly," Dan replied in a bored tone. "I ate yesterday, thus I do not have to eat today. And I am entirely prepared to stand here all day because I am not hungry and you cannot make me eat."

"Dan stop being a prat!" Phil spat, raising his voice.

"I'm not!" Dan replied in an equally loud voice, spinning around to face Phil, his eyes furious. Phil was slightly taken aback by the anger in his eyes. "I am NOT being a prat, I'm just not hungry!"

"Dan you haven't eaten for hours," Phil whispered diplomatically, his eyes filling with tears at the hatred he perceived in Dan's visage. _I don't want him to hate me. I just want him to be better, I want the old him back. The version of him that I was falling in love with, day by day. The happy one. _

"I am aware of that," Dan replied harshly. _Look at the tears, you monster. You've made him cry. _"Stop treating me like a kid and let me make my own fucking decisions."

"But that didn't work before, did it Dan?" Phil whispered, fighting furiously against the urge to let his tears fall. He had to be strong. Dan needed him to be strong; there wasn't any room for him to falter when his best friend needed someone to lean on. _Why does he have black circles the size of planets under his eyes? He's shattered. He was tired yesterday too. Maybe he's ill…we're going to his first outpatient meeting tomorrow…I'll mention it then_

"Oh just fuck off, Phil!" Dan yelled suddenly, interrupting Phi's thought pattern as he moved out of the corner. "Just GET OUT OF MY FACE ALL THE TIME. I DON'T EVEN CARE OKAY I JUST DON'T CARE!"

"About what?" Phil whispered, swallowing. _Don't cry, Philip, you're a grown man. _

"You! I don't CARE ABOUT YOU and ANY of your STUPID RULES!" Dan yelled, "Oh Dan, you should eat some food. Oh Dan, you can't go to the bathroom after eating. Oh Dan, you can't be alone in case you cut. Oh Dan, you can't think UNLESS YOU THINK BAD THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF! It's MY BODY and MY MIND Phil so just get the fuck out of it!" _Shut up Dan shutupshutup what are you even saying? _He'd been awake for almost 48 hours straight, hadn't eaten anything since the previous evening and hadn't had the release he had come to rely on. He wasn't thinking straight – in fact he was dizzy from exhaustion – and his mouth was just screaming words at Phil with no input from his brain. And there Phil stood, with his hands loosely by his side and a face like a sad puppy that Dan had just kicked. _But Dan didn't even have the energy to care. _

"Fine," snapped Phil, trying to sound hard, but his voice shook a little. "Do what you want with yourself." He turned on his heel, and he left the room, slamming the door shut behind him so hard it sent reverberations through the wall. He wrenched open the door to the flat and went outside. All the time, his head was screaming at him that he was doing the wrong thing – he was leaving Dan alone, in an agitated state. He knew what Dan would do. But then again, he didn't know if he had the will to keep fighting.

Phil sank to the floor and dug out his phone, opting to call PJ rather than Chris…PJ had always been the more sensitive one, Chris seeing things in a more jokey light. _Don't, Phil. Put the phone down and go back. Stop him before it's too late. It's probably already too late though. And he doesn't want you. He hates you…he doesn't care about you. He said so._

* * *

"Come back," Dan whispered, but Phil was already gone. "No, no, Phil." Tears leaked from his eyes as he stood there in the middle of the room, so cold and so alone. _And what exactly is the point to all of this? All of this pain and hatred, and anger and arguing, and hurting the man I love? What is the point to me being here to suffer?_

His head was pounding from exhaustion, so he yanked open the cupboard where he knew Phil had hidden the pain killers – he'd seen him get some the previous day when he was in the corner – and took two out, swallowing them with water and leaving the bottle on the coffee table because he didn't want to get back down on his knees…it had made his head hurt even more. He stared at the bottle, aware that if he just swallowed them all it would just end. All the pain. All the hurt. Everything would be peaceful and okay and _Phil would be free._

_I always thought that I didn't want to die, but as each day melts into the next, I'm not so sure anymore. I wasn't born to be a soldier; to march onwards no matter what. I was born a coward._

Dan knew that all he needed to stop the thoughts was to cut, to feel the razor dragging across his skin…but he also knew he wouldn't find a razor with which to get his release. _If Phil came back, he could hold me. That helped last time. _

He didn't have the energy to find something to cut with, and he stumbled across the room, sinking down on the sofa, wrapping his arms around himself as his body shook with the strength of his sobs. _Did I really tell Phil I didn't care about him? That's the least true thing in the world. He's probably the only person I could never live without. _

Dan wondered if Phil would come back, or if he would just leave him there. He'd deserve it. It would be for the best; because Phil could move onwards and upwards, and try and make something of his life rather than spending all of his time cooped up in a flat with his fucked up friend. Because Phil thought that Dan could get better, and Dan knew that he was wrong.

Although he needed his release and he needed his sickening brand of pain relief, Dan couldn't fight the waves of exhaustion any longer, as his body seized control and pulled him under into a deep sleep.

* * *

"You're telling me you left him in the flat alone, Phil?" PJ sounded furious when he finally understood the situation. "What did you go and do that for, you idiot?"

"He didn't want me there," Phil sobbed into the speaker. "He shouted and yelled at me, and told me he didn't care about me or what I said to him and…and…he doesn't want me Peej."

"It's not about what he wants," PJ replied, softening his tone when he realised how much of a state Phil was in. "It's about what he needs. And what he doesn't need is to be walked out on, when he needs you the most."

"I know," Phil whispered, attempting to stem the flood of tears with his sleeve. "But I'm scared, Peej. I'm scared that he's never going to get better and I'm scared that I'm going to lose him to this. However hard I try, it's impossible to make him see that he's amazing and beautiful and that he doesn't need to cut or starve himself. He doesn't _see _that PJ and I don't know how to make him. I'm scared. I can't lose him, I just can't. I couldn't live in a world without him, can't you understand that?"

"Phil, calm down, mate. Stop. It's only been a couple of days. You need to take it one step at a time and you need to ignore whatever shit he throws at you. He's only saying stuff like that because he's hurting, and he doesn't know what else to do. His coping mechanism has been taken from him, and he's trying to readjust but of course it's going to be difficult for him. Please, Phil, don't be scared. I believe in you."

* * *

"Dan?" Phil called softly, as he re-entered the flat. There was no reply. Immediately assuming the worst, Phil checked his bedroom, and was relieved to see that the box of potential weapons hadn't been touched. "Dan?"

_I shouldn't have left him alone. It was just for ten minutes…but he's probably found something by now. He could have slit his wrists; he could be bleeding to death…oh my god. _

Phil couldn't see him in the living room until he stepped into the room fully…and with his heart in his mouth, Phil ran to the sofa and dropped to the floor next to the sofa, his fingers numbly grabbing Dan's wrists…they were slit free. But Dan's eyes were firmly shut, and his mouth was hanging open. Painfully close to hyperventilating, Phil clocked the bottle of pills on the coffee table and shook Dan, but he didn't wake up.

"Dan…Dan…" Phil gasped, staring down at the still, white face in front on him. "No, I can't lose you…" He could feel a pulse, but it was a slight one, and he knew that Dan would still have a pulse…how long ago had he taken them…how long did he have left? _Ambulance, Phil, you idiot. _

Phil fumbled with his phone, hands shaking so violently he almost couldn't key in the three numbers. He waited impatiently while it connected, tears already streaming down his face, feeling physically sick as everything inside him began to churn. _This can't be the end. I never even told him that I loved him. Well, I did, but not in the right way. It was never the right time. _

"A…a…ambulance." Phil choked out. "He…he's t…taken pills…I don't know…I DON'T KNOW, I just need you to…Dan?"

Dan's eyelids fluttered as he heard shouting, and his mind screaming protests – sleep had been nice. Comfortable. Painless. Above him, Phil came into view, tears streaming down his face and a mobile phone pressed to his ear, frantically.

"How m…many did you take?" Phil asked desperately, dropping to his knees in front of Dan.

"W…what?" Dan yawned, confused.

"Painkillers, Dan, tell me!" Phil yelled. "Tell me right now, I can't lose you, not like this! I'm begging you…I love you Dan, don't do this to me."

"Phil…I had a headache. I only took two!" Dan mumbled, sitting up and stretching. "Who are you on the phone too?"

"999!" Phil said. "Are you telling me the truth?" Phil's hand shot out and grasped the front of Dan's t-shirt, pulling him close. "Tell me the truth, or I will never forgive you. If you die on me Daniel, I'll have nothing left to live for myself."

"Phil for fuck's sake hang up, you're wasting their time!" Dan protested, taking Phil's hand in his. "If I'd swallowed an overdose, I wouldn't be conscious now! Look, there's loads left. Chill out and hang up," Dan yawned. _I still need to sleep. _

"Uh…right. Yeah…yeah," Phil pulled away, feeling stupid, and Dan could hear him murmuring in the background. Dan shut his eyes again, and rested his head on the arm of the sofa. A moment later, Phil returned and crouched down next to Dan.

"Dan…Dan, I'm sorry I left you here alone," Phil whispered gently, taking Dan's hands in his own and squeezing them. "I shouldn't have done that. I know you get scared. I'm so, so sorry. God, I thought I'd lost you."

Dan smiled sleepily, and stretched out his hand, placing it lazily on Phil's cheek.

"You didn't…" he mumbled. "I didn't even cut, when you were gone. I think…I almost did. But…I'm too tired."

"You were just sleeping," Phil said, rocking back on his heels, feeling a heady mixture of relief and stupidity. "I thought…"

"I know," Dan said, cutting him off. "I think about it sometimes. I really do. But I couldn't do that, not to you."

"Promise me," Phil said urgently. "Promise me you will never do that to me. I _love _you Dan Howell, and without you I don't know what I would become."

"I promise," Dan mumbled. "I need a nap right now though so can we quit with the heavy talk?"

"Okay," Phil said. "Stay there for one second."

Phil hurried through to the hallway, and pulled a fleece blanket out of the airing cupboard. When he returned, Dan had sat up.

"I thought you were tired," Phil said gently. "Lie back down."

"Can…can't you…" Dan looked at the spot next to him on the sofa. "I…don't leave me again."

"Sorry," Phil whispered, walking over to the sofa and sitting down. "I didn't think."

"I shouldn't have said any of that stuff to you Phil," Dan yawned, as he curled his legs underneath him and placed his head on Phil's chest. Trying not to feel too off guard at the sudden and random closeness, Phil tucked the blanket over Dan, and wrapped his spare arm around him, so he was comfortable. Dan shut his eyes, and sighed. "I didn't mean any of it. I…I just keep…"

"I understand," Phil said softly. "I get it. You need some kind of release, and because you can't get it, you get angry. It's okay."

"It's not okay though, Phil, cause I broke my promise," Dan mumbled. "I promised not to lie to you and…and I did when I said I didn't care. I do."

"I know," Phil said. "Why are you so tired?"

"Dunno," Dan yawned widely. "I'm…sleep…now."

"You do that," Phil said gently, smiling. _Sleepy Dan was adorable._ In a matter of seconds, Dan was asleep, his face tucked up against Phil's chest, breathing deeply and peacefully as he got some much needed rest. Phil ran his fingers through the tangled brown hair, smoothing it out as he tried to relax following the stress and adrenaline of a few minutes before. _I didn't realise quite how much he meant, before. But that's what they say isn't it – you don't know what you've got until it's gone._

And in that moment, as he saw the pills and the still body, he'd seen it all. Life without Dan. Coming home to an empty flat. Making videos alone. Listening to Muse alone. Going out alone, watching films alone. Procrastinating alone. Trying to comfort the fans, when he was the one who needed it the most. Telling Dan's parents what had happened. Having to delete the answerphone message, because it was Dan's voice. He'd seen himself surrounded by Dan's stuff, unable to get rid of it but unable to look at it. He'd seen himself watching Dan's videos on the internet every single day, trying not to let the image of the brown eyed boy who was his whole world slip away. He'd seen himself at a graveside, sobbing uncontrollably. He'd seen himself wandering the streets alone, going to the places they used to go, looking for Dan even though he knew he wouldn't be anywhere. He'd seen himself alone and miserable forever…if he lasted that long.

Phil knew it was his fault. Had he not left the flat like that, there wouldn't have been room for the confusion to occur. In his head, he swore to himself that however hard it got in the future, he wouldn't leave Dan alone again. It had been stupid, selfish and irresponsible. And he needed to hide the painkillers in the safe box…he wondered how Dan had found them…but then again it didn't matter. It was irresponsible of him to leave them anywhere even remotely accessible.

_You need to keep your guard up, Phil. Keep fighting and stay strong. Because you know that you couldn't live without Dan. _

He watched Dan sleep, and he looked so peaceful in his arms, his face smooshed against his chest like a small child. Phil was determined to figure out why Dan was so tired – and the plan started that evening. He was going to lie awake until Dan went to sleep. He would _not _go to sleep first, however tired he got. The reason Dan was in such a bad way now was because he had managed to keep his secrets for so long – now Phil was determined that there would be no more secrets.

Because secrets are walls that keep people trapped.

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	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN – EASY TO FORGET**

After about two hours, Phil woke Dan up by gently shaking him, aware that if he slept any longer he'd never be able to sleep that night. It took about five minutes of shaking to wake Dan up, and he blinked at the light as if it was personally offensive to him.

"Wanna sleep," he mumbled, pushing his face against Phil's chest. "Go away."

"You can go to sleep at night time, as is conventional," Phil said, smiling softly, shifting a little bit because Dan was giving him pins and needles in his arm. "C'mon, get up."

"No…" Dan mumbled, locking an arm around Phil. "You're warm."

"You should edit your video," Phil suggested, pushing the sleepy boy so Dan was sitting up, regretting it the moment he could no longer feel Dan's warm body against his.

"I can do it tomorrow," Dan whined, throwing his arm dramatically over his eyes and slumping back against the sofa.

"No you can't," Phil said lightly, tugging Dan's arm away. "We're going to the hospital tomorrow."

"Fucking hell, Phil, I don't want to go," Dan looked panicked, his brown eyes full of fear. "Phil, they'll…Phil, I don't want to!"

"Dan, calm down! They're just there to help," Phil said soothingly, rubbing his hand up and down Dan's arm. "It's okay. I promise."

"Will…will you come?" Dan sounded so insecure, and yet adorable, like a small child afraid to walk to the bathroom in the dark.

"Of course I will, silly," Phil said, rolling his eyes. "As if I'd make you go alone."

"And you'll stay with me, the whole time?"

"Unless you ask me to leave, yes," Phil smiled, patting Dan's hand. "Just relax. It's just a routine meeting."

"Why would I ask you to leave?" Dan stretched and sat up properly, running his hand through his hair.

"There's this thing called patient confidentiality…I don't know if you've ever heard of it," Phil said sarcastically.

"Shut up, Phil," Dan said, poking Phil in the ribs. Phil giggled – he'd always been far too ticklish for his own good – and squirmed back on the sofa.

"Ah…no…Dan," Phil was helpless on the sofa as Dan poked him again and again, and Phil was suddenly aware of how close Dan's face was to his own…and in that moment which seemed to stretch on forever, he noticed two things – the first and most important, that Dan's eyes were sparkling as he smiled a full smile that showed his dimples and the second that he really _really _wanted to kiss him. Phil didn't know what to do or think, so he said the first thing that came to him mind. "Uh…I…I need to cook."

Phil stood up quickly, straightening his t-shirt and running his hands through his hair. Trying to control his breathing, he went over to the fridge and pulled it open. Of course, he'd been aware of his attraction to Dan. Painfully so at times. But never before had he experienced that urge to kiss him that almost verged on desperation…and he knew that had he not been completely in control of himself at that moment, he could have actually kissed Dan and destroyed everything they had built together and were still building. _Because that is what happens when you start to fancy your straight best friend. Every move you make, every word you say, needs to be carefully controlled to avoid ruining the entire friendship in one go. _

* * *

Dan was busy editing the video that he'd filmed the day before. As he watched through the various clips, cutting and photoshopping where necessary, he could hear Phil being incredibly loud with the pots and pans and all that was running through his head was the image of Phil's face so close to his own, and the desperate wish that Phil would kiss him…but Phil hadn't.

Of course he hadn't. _You are a fool, Daniel Howell, a desperate and pathetic fool. _He knew he'd been reading more into things than he should, like always. He needed to remember that Phil was looking after him because that was who Phil was – he wasn't looking after Dan because he wanted to look after Dan specifically, but because he couldn't let another person suffer.

And sometimes Dan thought it would be easier if he'd never met Phil – because Phil was the epitome of the perfection that Dan knew he could never achieve. But Dan knew that wasn't true, because if he'd never met Phil he'd still be at university, shut in his room with no friends, envisaging nothing but a life of boredom and pain. At least Phil brought him hope.

Shaking his head, trying to clear himself of the negative thought pattern, he focussed his eyes back on the screen.

* * *

"Phil…"

"Dan, genuinely after what happened earlier I am not in the mood. Just get the fucking food down your throat," Phil snapped, slamming his knife and fork down on the table. He could tell from Dan's face that he had no intentions of eating the spaghetti in front of him, and the last thing Phil wanted was a repeat of the argument they'd had about lunch.

"I'm not…"

"Don't even try," Phil said, burying his face in his hands, "Fine. I'm not going to eat anything until you do, so if you want to starve yourself I hope that you're okay with starving me too."

Dan's eyes met Phil's and he glared at the blue eyed boy in front of him.

"Phil, don't be stupid," Dan growled. "You can't starve yourself."

"Oh, but you can?" Phil asked, pushing his plate away from him. "I won't eat until you do."

"But…"

"But what?" Phil asked, regretting his decision already. He was hungry. _Damnit._

"I don't want to eat," Dan whispered, fiddling with his fork. "I'm really sorry Phil, but I don't want to."

"Dan, you're dangerously underweight," Phil replied.

"I'm fat," Dan said simply, as if he were stating a fact. And Phil knew that he thought he was, because for him that was entirely true. Phil stood up suddenly, and Dan looked up at him alarmed. Phil didn't say anything but he took Dan's arm and pulled him up from the chair, pulling him through to his bathroom. Phil flicked the switch on and forced Dan to sit on the toilet seat.

Taking a deep breath, Phil pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor, so he was only wearing his jeans. Dan averted his eyes, not wanting to look, not wanting to see. Phil. _Phil as he'd imagined him so many times. Except this time, Phil wasn't smiling. _

"Am I fat, Dan?" Phil said, seizing Dan's chin and forcing him to look at him. "Am I fat?"

"No," Dan answered, shaking his head. "Of course you aren't." _Phil was beautiful. Just looking at him now, Dan was filled with envy and desperate want. His hair was ruffled from taking his shirt off, and whilst he wasn't muscular, he was still well modelled with sharp hip bones and a line of black hair trailing down…his arms were scar free too, and in Dan's eyes, whilst Phil was no model he was by no means unattractive. By no means. _

"I think I am, actually," Phil said, turning to look at himself in the mirror. "I'm hideous, Dan. I literally…like ugh. Look at me! " Phil pinched a bit of skin from his stomach and pulled on it, making a disgusted face as he did so. "I'm so fat."

"No you aren't!" Dan protested, staring at Phil with a mixture of anger and upset. _Why was he saying that about himself?_

"Shut up Dan, I am," Phil said in his best stubborn voice, glaring at himself in the mirror. "I'm fat, Dan. I am."

"Stop it, Phil," Dan sounded upset now. He stood up and went over to Phil, standing in between him and the mirror. "You aren't fat. Stop it, please, this is horrible."

"Take your shirt off," Phil said suddenly.

"W…what?"

"Take your shirt off," Phil repeated, crossing his arms across his bare chest.

"N…no!" Dan protested. "Why?"

Phil didn't answer. He just took the bottom of Dan's t-shirt and pulled it up, yanking it roughly over Dan's head when he tried to struggle. Then he forced Dan to turn around and look in the mirror…_oh my god. He's skin and bone. He's so beautiful but so broken; he's wasted away to nothing and he's covered in scars. But he's still beautiful in his brokenness, and I wish he could understand that. _

"Look," Phil whispered in Dan's ear, conscious that his arm was pressed against the bare skin of Dan's back and aware that everything he was feeling was very wrong of him. "Look at yourself."

Dan looked and then he looked away. He saw what he always saw. A stupidly tall, scarred fat person. A pathetic, awkward freak. He couldn't look in the mirror for long; it just filled his head with horrible thoughts about himself and he had enough of those already.

"No," Phil said firmly. "Look." He took Dan's face between his hands and forced him to look into the mirror. Phil angled himself so his body was next to Dan's emaciated one…so that not even the most deluded person could deny that one body was bigger than the other.

"Phil…"

"I'm not fat, am I Dan?" Phil murmured. "You said I wasn't fat."

"You're not fat," Dan mumbled.

"You're smaller than me, Dan," Phil said. "If I'm not fat, then how can you be? God, Dan, look at yourself. You're…there's practically nothing left of you."

Dan looked. And for the first time, with Phil's solid and beautiful body next to him, he saw. He saw what he was, and he saw what he had become. He saw his ribs and he saw his hip bones sticking out like razors and he saw his collarbone pressing out from beneath the thinly stretched skin. He saw that his stomach, which he had always wished to be flat, was practically concave. He saw himself as Phil saw him, and he saw himself as the rest of the world saw him.

_He saw that he wasn't beautiful, but this time he saw that it was because he was so thin. _

"I'm hideous," Dan whispered. He saw Phil's face change, and knew that the anger on Phil's face was because Phil thought he was still calling himself fat. Dan shook his head violently, still staring even as tears began to cloud his vision. He didn't want to stop looking, because he was afraid that if he did when he looked again he'd see the image of himself that he had created in his own head, and had convinced himself was the real one. And he knew then, properly, for the first time that he really did need fixing.

"What have I done to myself?"

It was a question that didn't need to be asked, because they both already knew. The evidence was right in front of them, reflected in the mirror in the form of a skeleton boy.

* * *

"Dan you can't go to sleep if you're sitting up," Phil said into the darkness. Dan jumped, his hand flying to his heart.

"Why are you awake?"

"Why are you?" Phil said in a tone full of accusation.

"I was…just thinking," Dan said which was partly true. He had been thinking. But he had also been trying not to go to sleep.

"Lie down and go to sleep," Phil mumbled from his bed. "Or I will tape you down."

* * *

_"Get out." Phil said firmly, holding out Dan's bag. "I packed your stuff for you. Now take it and leave."_

_ "Phil…" Dan blinked, shaking his head frantically. "No, Phil! Why?"_

_ "I can't do this anymore Dan!" Phil snapped, chucking the bag at him when he didn't take it. "You just keep on doing the most RETARDED things ever, and I have to pick up the bloody pieces all the time. I CAN'T and WON'T do it anymore so GET THE HELL out of my house. You are just messed up Dan, your head doesn't work right. YOU don't work right."_

_ "I'm sorry!" Dan whispered._

_ "You should be sorry; you're just one big fuck up!" Phil growled. "Why are you still here?"_

_ "I…I don't have anywhere to go," Dan said._

_ "I'm sure you'll find somewhere," Phil said. "You always manage to get what you want in the end."_

_ "Clearly not," whispered Dan hoarsely. "Because all I want is you. All I want is to be here with you."_

_ "Well that's just too bad, isn't it?"_

_ "Phil give me one more chance, please?" Dan was fighting back tears now. How could this be happening? He'd thought Phil was forever…the way he helped him through everything. The way he'd always been there, and been so strong just when Dan needed him._

_ "How many chances do you think you can have Dan?" Phil hissed. "I have given you chance after chance, and you keep screwing up. Get out of my house you idiot."_

_ "But I love you…." Dan said, his final, pathetic plea. The three words he'd never had the courage to say properly. Until then._

_ "Too bad because I don't love you." The words were hard and cold, and of course, they were true. Why would someone like Phil want someone like him? Someone so smart and kind and funny, with someone who cut and starved themselves? It just wasn't logical. It never had been. They'd always been walking a fragile line…and the tipping point had finally been reached and Dan had been sent crashing to the floor._

_ "Bye then," Dan whispered. "I love you Phil."_

_ "Oh just hurry up and leave."_

_ So Dan left. He made it to the bottom of the block of flats before he had to stop and the pain of what had happened made him fall to the floor, sobbing and screaming and hitting the floor with both hands._

_"Dan?"_

_ He ignored whoever the hell it was wanting to know why he was crying and continued pounding at the floor. Why did it have to happen like that? Why did he have to be such a fuck up?_

_ "Dan…DAN?" Stupid annoying voice. Did it not know that the world had ended? "DAN!"_

Growling in frustration, Dan opened his eyes…to see Phil's anxious face in front of him, lit by the bedside lamp. He swallowed and realised that he was crying…and then relief flooded through him, quickly followed by pain as he realised his dream was simply a prophecy of what the future held. The healing cuts and the whitish scars on his arm glistening in the light were a good enough testimony of what the future held for him and Phil.

"Dan?" Phil looked concerned.

"It's nothing," Dan said, pulling away from Phil's hand and lying back down. "Go back to sleep."

"Why were you crying?" Phil asked, ignoring Dan.

"I wasn't," Dan protested, trying to push Phil away. Phil grabbed Dan's feeble hand and sat down on the bed next to him.

"Dan I can see the tears on your face," Phil said flatly. "What were you dreaming about?"

It was so early in the morning and Phil's face was so close by, and his hand was so warm in Dan's that Dan didn't have the time or energy to come up with a lie.

"You," Dan mumbled. "Making me leave."

Phil raised an eyebrow at him.

"This is as much your flat as it is mine, silly," Phil said, gently pushing Dan's tangled and sweaty hair off his forehead. "And I wouldn't ask you to leave anyway. However annoying you are, you are my best friend."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Dan," Phil said. "Stop being silly!"

"Sorry," Dan whispered.

"Is this why you haven't been sleeping?" Phil asked suddenly, narrowing his eyes at the sleepy looking boy. In response, Dan picked his pillow up and put it over his face. "Dan…"

"Maybe," Dan mumbled from beneath the pillow.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Phil sighed.

"Embarrassing," was the almost incoherent reply from the pillow.

"You didn't have a nightmare earlier," Phil noted, gently removing the pillow from Dan's face. Dan flushed red. "What?"

"I…uh…well. That's because you were there," Dan muttered, his face turning even redder.

"But I'm here now," Phil said. "Just a metre or so away."

"Yeah I know," Dan shrugged. "But when I'm asleep I guess I don't know that."

"Oh," Phil said, feeling sleepier with the passing seconds. "Move over then."

"What?"

"Move over," Phil repeated, prodding Dan in the side. Dan rolled over; making space in Phil's bed for Phil. Phil lay down next to Dan, and pulled the duvet over them.

"Um…" Dan said awkwardly.

"Look it's two in the morning and we have to go to the hospital tomorrow and I don't want them to think I'm not looking after you because you're the walking dead," Phil said, pulling Dan's body against him and wrapping his arms around his thin body. "So, just go to sleep because I'm here so you won't have a nightmare. It's totally okay for friends to share a bed."

"If you insist," Dan said, smiling to himself.

"I do," Phil yawned, snuggling closer and shutting his eyes.

Somehow, with Phil's arms around him in the warm bed, it was easy to forget the events of the day. It was easy to forget the argument and Phil leaving, and it was easy to forget the skeleton he had seen in the bathroom mirror. It was easy to forget that he had to go to the hospital the next day. It was easy to forget that he was broken. It was easy to forget everything except that Phil was right there next to him.

**_Let me know what you think, either on here, in PM or on Tumblr (Lunaticphan). Although if you do just want to hate me...you could just do it in your head and not to me, which would be the friendlier option ;) xxx_**


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11 - TRUST**

Dan woke up the next morning in the worst mood he had been in all week. And it was all because Phil was asleep next to him, his face pressed against the pillow. Dan leant on one elbow and watched Phil sleeping, his gentle breathing moving his chest up and down. His beauty wasn't fair. How was it that one person got it all, and another got nothing? His features were so strong and firm, and his eyes were beautiful. His smile was amazing; somehow cute and sexy at the same time. _So he was handsome and had a personality that sparkled._ The very definition of perfection, compressed into one body that was, by some extreme miracle, lying in bed next to Dan's own broken, ugly body.

And Dan was afraid, because he could feel himself sliding down a very slippery slope. _He was falling in love with Phil._ Properly. Dangerously in love with him, as it happened. Before, it had been just a crush…manageable and easy to control. But every single day, Phil gave him another reason to fall for him, and every single day Dan fell a little bit more. And he knew that he was caught up in a dangerous game that was playing itself out between his head and his heart – he couldn't lose Phil, because he knew deep down that with time Phil had the power to help him fix himself. And if he lost Phil before he reached that point, he knew everything would collapse in on itself and he would be back at square one.

He hoped one day he would be strong enough to stand without Phil, and to know that he could look after himself. But he hadn't reached that point yet. But in his heart, it was ripping him apart watching Phi's perfection, and loving it, but not being able to say anything. He was choking on the words, because he didn't want Phil to hate him. He didn't want Phil to hate him as much as he hated himself.

Because he knew that he didn't deserve Phil. And he knew that even if he did get better, and then told Phil how he felt, he knew it couldn't possibly go anywhere. Phil wouldn't be cruel about it – he'd _never _be cruel- but he'd let him down gently. _I think we should just be friends _instead of _you're not good enough for me. _Of course, both versions were true, but the latter would be unspoken. But not un-thought.

So, on the day of his very first outpatients meeting, Dan was having his worst day in a while…which obviously wasn't going to make for a happy meeting.

* * *

"Dan…that's not enough," Phil said firmly, as Dan began ripping the remaining half of his toast into shreds.

"Sorry…sorry," mumbled Dan. "I just…I'm too nervous to eat it, Phil. That's not an excuse, I swear. I'll eat something after the appointment."

"Promise?" Phil said, raising an eyebrow at Dan.

"Yeah," Dan replied. "I promise. I…yesterday in the bathroom…I realised that…well. You know. I realised."

"I know," Phil said softly, smiling. "I know you did. But I don't want to just let it slip. I need to be sure that it's completely sorted in your head before I back off."

"Thanks," Dan said, laying a hand over Phil's. _That's just friendly right? That's not creepy or anything is it? _

"Did you get your video sorted yesterday?" Phil asked as he took Dan's half-eaten breakfast and began clearing the table.

"Yeah, I need to upload it though."

"You have time now," Phil said, glancing at his watch. "If we leave in about an hour, we're good."

Dan nodded and fetched his laptop from the corner. As he did so, Phil was putting some bread and butter in a sandwich bag for after the hospital. He watched Dan out of the corner of his eye, and although he knew that something had changed for the better in Dan the previous day, he had a horrible tension in his stomach…something wasn't right. He could feel it. He could see it in the slight dejectedness of his walk. He could see it in the way he kept biting his lip. He could see it in the way he pulled on his sleeves. Phil swallowed and hoped that it was just nervousness about the hospital that was freaking Dan out…but his intuition was screaming at him that things had been going too well. _Things go well…and then the glue begins to wear, and everything falls apart again. _

"Dan?"

"Yeah?" Dan murmured, as he finished typing in the description to his new video and hit upload. Phil sat down next to Dan, knowing that he was sitting too close for comfort, but unable to stop himself. He needed to feel Dan close to him; to reassure himself. _He's still here, he's still breathing. Whatever is coming, at least he's here with you. _Dan shut the lid of his laptop and looked at Phil. "What's up?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing," Phil said quietly, meeting Dan's eyes. Dan blinked, and he looked completely innocent. But Phil knew better than to believe that look…Dan had always looked innocent. And he'd been lying to everyone, all that time, and nobody had known a thing.

"Nothing's up," Dan said simply, smiling._ A smile that wasn't big or honest enough to show his dimple._

"Dan…"

"I'm just worried," Dan said, looking away. "I just…I don't want them to decide that I can't stay here. Because you've helped me so much already, and I don't want them to take me away from you."

"I won't let them," Phil said. "I won't let that happen, Dan. I swear. It's not even that kind of meeting, silly. It's just a check-up. I promise you everything will be fine, right? We'll go the hospital, we'll be there for half an hour maximum and then we can go to Starbucks?"

"I'd like that," Dan said, resting his head on Phil's shoulder. _I'd like that. I'd like that. I'll lie in bed at night playing it over and over in my head and wishing it was real. Get a grip Dan._

"What else is bothering you?" Phil said suddenly, in an attempt to distract himself from the warmth of Dan's head on his shoulder. His hair was brushing lightly against Phil's cheek…and it felt comfortable and warm and right. It felt like home. _But it was forbidden. _

"Nothing else," Dan said quietly. "I would tell you."

"You didn't tell me about your nightmares," Phil pointed out.

Dan shrugged.

"That was different," he mumbled. "The nightmares…they were …well. Personal. Super personal. I don't know, it was just embarrassing. But I'm okay."

_I'm okay. _

_I'm okay._

_I'm not okay, but I can't tell you why, Phil. I can't tell you why because it would freak you out. _

* * *

Dan had been getting increasingly more and more agitated as time went on. From the moment he had arrived in the office, his tension had built with each tick of the clock. They'd spoken about the previous day, and Dan's eating and the woman was annoying and patronising and she said she was proud of him…_she can't say that. She doesn't even know me. She doesn't want me to get better really, she just wants her money. She isn't proud of me; Phil is proud of me – how dare she steal his words?_

_Stupid plastic woman with stupid plastic glasses. _Then she'd moved on to his cutting and wanted to know absolutely everything. _Have you thought about doing it much? Do you really want to do it? When did you last do it? Why did you last do it? _She'd even asked if he wanted to talk to a specialist or a recovered cutter – as if Phil wasn't enough for him. And to top it all off, she had the cheek to check that Phil had been giving him his anti-depressants. _As if Phil would ever forget that. _He didn't need her. He didn't need any of them, or any of the help she wanted to throw at his feet. He just needed Phil, and the safety of their flat.

"Well, that's everything then," Doctor Abbott smiled at them. "Although, Daniel, would you like to talk to me alone?"

"Fuck no."

"Dan…" Phil said, in an exasperated voice, staring at Dan with horrified eyes.

"I don't," Dan said, glaring at the floor. "I want to go now."

"Daniel, I just wanted to let you know that…"

"NO!" Dan shouted, jumping to his feet. "I SAID I DIDN'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU!" He grabbed his jacket, and spun around, storming out of the door. Phil watched him go, knowing he should follow but also torn…he was too polite to just leave. He felt the need to apologise, but he also wanted some reassurance of his own.

"Uh…sorry," Phil said awkwardly. Doctor Abbott blinked at him from behind her glasses and then smiled, writing something on the form she had in front of her.

"It's okay," she said softly. "I've had a lot worse than that. But in a way, it's a good thing. Because it shows that he trusts you that much that he doesn't want you to leave. By having someone he can trust that much, he has a rock. He has someone to reply on who he one hundred percent knows will be there. And that, Mr Lester, is the first step towards some kind of recovery. Trust. Trusting someone apart from himself. You've accomplished a lot in just a few days."

"I think…I think he kind of already trusted me though," Phil said, with a sigh. He wanted to go after Dan, but he still had nagging concerns that he wasn't looking after him right and that everything was going to go wrong and it would all be his fault for doing it all wrong.

"Maybe he did a little bit," the doctor shrugged. "But before, he'd never had needed you to come to a doctor's appointment with him, would he?"

"No, but I still feel like he's keeping things from me," Phil said. "And I'm worried that means…he's going to get worse and not better."

"Of course he'll be keeping things from you, if he has things to keep. The majority of his secret life is out in the open, and as far as he is concerned he's lost all of the control he previously had over himself and his life. He'll keep silly things from you, because he can. That doesn't necessarily mean that anything bad is going on. Although of course, you need to always be on the red alert. You can never be too careful, but it's good to bear in mind that you can never be too optimistic either."

* * *

Dan stormed into the waiting room, to discover it was deserted. He was glad. He didn't want to go too far, because then Phil wouldn't be able to find him and he'd get worried. But equally he wasn't going to go back in there to that patronising freaky woman who just wanted him to talk to every person on the planet about his problem.

Didn't she know it was private? A secret? Embarrassing? More importantly, didn't she realise that that was what _Phil_ was for? Dan was angry. In fact, he was beyond angry. He just wanted to scream and throw things around. And maybe cut. Because cutting always helped him to calm down; it brought him down from the rage he felt and it made everything a little bit better.

_No no no no. Not to Phil. You can't do it to Phil. _

But that didn't stop him from doing what he did next. He knew that it was a mistake, and he knew that he should stop himself. But he was stuck in a kind of limbo where he had no control, and he felt like he desperately needed it. He had no options anymore, because Phil had hidden everything in the flat and thrown out his razors.

So he stole the receptionists scissors from the pot on her desk, and shoved them into the inside pocket of his coat.

_Just in case. Just in case I really need them. I won't use them otherwise, but we all need emergency provisions sometimes. _

* * *

"Dan," Phil said, sighing with relief when he saw Dan slumped in one of the waiting room chairs, twiddling his thumbs and looking miserable.

"Oh good, you're done," Dan said, standing up, making a serious attempt to keep the guilt he was feeling off his face. _Don't give it away. _"Can we go now?"

"Dan, I would like you to go and apologise to Doctor Abbott," Phil said, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Well I would like to go and run her over, but I don't suppose that's going to happen either," Dan growled sarcastically. An old woman who had entered the room a few moments before Phil looked up in shock. "Don't look at me like that!" Dan said fiercely.

"Politeness isn't difficult, young man," she said, picking up a knitting magazine. "Listen to your boyfriend, dear, and go and apologise for whatever you did."

"Phil, she was patronising me," Dan whined, ignoring the old woman. Phil could feel himself blushing and he hoped Dan hadn't noticed what she had called him…_your boyfriend. Yeah right. _"I didn't like her."

"I know she was," Phil said, gently taking Dan's arms. "But it's only because she wants to help. She doesn't know you yet. She has to get to know each patient before she can know how best to treat them…you haven't given her a chance."

"But…" Dan trailed off, and pouted.

"But what?" Phil said, making Dan look him in the eye.

"She was acting like she doesn't think you can look after me. All like, oh do you want to talk to some specialist and oh Mr Lester you have been giving him his pills…it's all bullshit. Does she think you can't look after me or something?" Dan's voice was raised now, and Phil pressed his finger to the boy's lips.

"So you're offended on my behalf?" Phil said, smirking.

"Yes!" Dan said crossly. "You _can _look after me."

"I don't think she was suggesting otherwise," Phil said. "She just needs to check everything is going okay. If she didn't think it was, she'd have pushed further, which she didn't. You misconstrued the situation, Dan, and then you were very rude." Phil tried his best to look disappointed, but he could already see that Dan was regretting his outburst…Dan always realised his mistakes in the end and that was what Phil liked so much about him. He wasn't perfect; but at least he realised and made amends.

Dan glared at Phil for half a second, then he glared at the floor, before finally huffing and stomping off in the direction of the recently vacated office. The old woman smiled up at Phil, her eyes weirdly misty.

"You make a lovely couple," she mused. "The perfect balance…you know how to handle him."

"I've had to practise," Phil said. "He's still got a lot of issues we need to fix."

"I think you've got it covered," she said, smiling and nodding.

_Do I? I hope I do. I just want him to be better…not even for myself. For him. I want him to stop hating himself and I want him to be happy, because that is what he deserves. He doesn't deserve this horrible half-life full of self-hatred, depression and doctor's offices. _

"Can we go to Starbucks now?" Dan said loudly, shuffling back out of the office, blushing slightly.

"Do you deserve to go to Starbucks, Dan?" Phil said in a jokingly stern voice.

"Hey," Dan said sulkily, poking Phil in the arm. "I apologised."

"Oh alright then," Phil said, grinning, and giving Dan a spontaneous one armed hug.

* * *

"I'm sorry I embarrassed you," Dan said when they finally got home, throwing himself down on the chair and grabbing his laptop.

"It's alright," Phil said, shaking his head. "I understand why you got mad. You just need to stop deciding what other people think and feel, and you'd get along so much better with everything."

"I guess," Dan said, smiling and shifting slightly in his seat. He felt the scissors jab him slightly in the side and schooled his expression. He'd forgotten all about them. _Why did I take them? I shouldn't have taken them. I'm meant to be trying to get better. Trying to fix myself. _

_But we all know that I'm crap at doing the right thing. I could get full marks in a test on 'How to be the ultimate screw up'._

"I'm going to go and jump in the shower," Phil said, "I'll be ten minutes maximum."

"Okay," Dan said, hitting the power button. "I'm just going to check out my new video comments then. When you're done, can we play Sonic?"

"Course we can," Phil called, already retreating into the hallway.

Dan watched him go, aware that this was the first time Phil had allowed him to be in the living room rather than his bedroom when he showered. That meant his trust in him was increasing. Trust that was unfortunately completely misplaced, because in his jacket Dan had a weapon. A weapon that if need be, could break his skin and make him bleed. A weapon that could give him his release…and Dan knew from experience it was only a matter of time before it became necessary…as necessary as oxygen. But Dan was determined to hold out as long as he absolutely could. Things were going okay, and Phil was beginning to look happier, especially now Dan was eating more. So he would preserve that happiness for as long as he could…a few more days, maybe, if nothing bad happened.

_Little did he know that his resolution would flicker and fade a lot sooner than he hoped. _

**Miow. Let me know what you think. PS if you really no like angst dont read the next chapter...although actually...i dont know why you're reading this story if you cant cope with it :P leave a review, or message me on tumblr (lunaticphan) and i will get back to you if you have any questions xxxxxx**


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12 – CUTS**

Dan brought up Youtube on his laptop, and immediately went to his new video. He figured that whilst Phil was in the shower he might as well kill some time checking out the reaction to it, and answering some of the fans' comments. Most of the comments were positive ones; saying how funny he was, how much they loved him and, of course, the comments telling him to pull his trousers up. That was all pretty standard and some of the more positive made him smile to himself.

There were negative ones too – ones that said he wasn't funny, and ones that said he was an emo, or gay, but he was used to those. Those, he could just brush off. He answered a few of the funnier comments, and deleted some of the more obscene – young kids watched his videos and he didn't want them seeing some of the homophobic crap that was out there. There was no better way to produce more homophobes than for young, impressionable kids to seethe hate and begin to believe it.

**PhilisAmazing123: Lol I can't believe people actually ship this guy with Phil. What?! Phil is amazing, and beautiful and funny and adorable and sexy all at the same time and Dan is just a superficial attention whore. As if they could ever be a couple**

Dan swallowed. 267 people had liked that comment, and others had replied to it. One or two were attacking the viewpoint, but most of them were agreeing. The hatred stared out of the computer screen at him, undeniable in black and white. _The truth. Shown to the world. _

**AmazingGreg7: This is the best thing I've seen all day. Phil should move out of that flat and away from this moron before he gets stuck with him forever.**

**JumpingJack: Lol guys don't be dumb, I bet Phil only stays because Dan gives him favours. He'll be out of there when he gets a better offer, don't worry too much about that haha. **

It was the last one that hurt the most; that tore Dan apart deep inside and made him choke for breath.

**Lizzieis4Phil: Phil is everything that Dan isn't. When you think about it, their usernames pretty much sum up their situation. Phil is amazing – he is smart, he is funny, he is unbelievably handsome, he is adorable, he is sweet, he is friendly, he is reliable and he always involves the fans as much as he can. Dan is not on fire. That is true. But that is all you can say about Dan really – he is not on fire. Apart from that he dropped out from university, he often insults people when he's trying to be funny, he isn't sweet or friendly, he isn't adorable, he constantly lets everybody down and when he isn't being rude to the fans, he ignores them. One of them is perfect, and the other fatally flawed. Although I do suppose that they say opposites attract. **

Dan was crying so much that he felt physically sick; and the words swam blurrily in front of his eyes. Someone out there, some girl called Lizzie, had managed to see the situation as clearly as it was without even knowing them. She had looked at them – at him and then at Phil – and she had seen how short Dan fell of the mark. She had seen it all, and she had shared it on the internet for 198 people to like in agreement. They all saw it too. They all saw that Dan was worth nothing compared to Phil. They all saw how little he meant.

Dan's face was damp with tears, and he realised that he was subconsciously clawing at his chest in a mad bid to try and breathe in and out. He felt like he was choking on his own breath, as if he didn't deserve to breathe. As if someone whose only merit was that they were not on fire didn't deserve to live. _Which you don't. Especially not with Phil. _

Phil was in the shower. He knew if Phil was there, he could show Phil and he would say something nice. But Dan didn't need nice right now; he didn't need lies. Maybe if Phil held him tightly in his arms, it would make everything better. Phil had always been a source of comfort. But even if Phil did hold him, he'd never be able to outrun the blinding truth that was always set in front of him. _Phil was better than him. He was just a burden to Phil, the sad loser who Phil just felt sorry for. _

He would go to the hospital tomorrow and talk to Doctor Abbott. He would tell her that he needed to be sectioned; that Phil couldn't care for him. Which wasn't even true because Phil had already managed to make him see past the fat boy he saw in his head and instead see the skeleton. But of course there was the one thing Phil hadn't fixed yet, because he hadn't had enough time…but if he had some evidence to show the doctor, it would all work out so much more easily.

And he _needed_ to.

He needed it so much, because his head was spinning and it was a cacophony of hateful voices - _but that is all you can say about Dan really – he is not on fire. _He was scarred and ugly, and he was only where he was today because of Phil. He had been born out of Phil's shadow; and without him he would be _nothing._ He owed him everything, but what could he return? Stress, and pain and angst and arguments. Nothing good. Nothing good came of living with Dan. Which is why he needed to leave there, leave there and never go back.

_Apart from that he dropped out from university, he often insults people when he's trying to be funny, he isn't sweet or friendly, he isn't adorable, he constantly lets everybody down and when he isn't being rude to the fans, he ignores them._ The sad thing was, they were all true. Every single carefully crafted insult had met its mark, because it was honest.

It's the honest things that hurt the most, because you already know that you are everything that you shouldn't be.

_The other is fatally flawed._

He was. In every single way, so why the hell did the last one matter? Why the hell did it matter that he was covered in scars, when nothing else was good in him? His fingers sought the firm plastic hooks of the scissor handle. Hands shaking almost with yearning, Dan pulled open the scissors so that the blades were separate.

Now, he was swinging on a pivot. He could put the scissors away, and do the right thing. Or he could cut, he could cut and bleed and he would get his release. He could cut, and for a few moments he could forget.

He cut.

He dragged the sharp blade across his arm, swiftly and sharply, producing a burning, stinging line in the wake of the blade. Droplets of blood formed immediately at the surface of the cut and Dan exhaled with the pain. _He deserved this. _

_He'll be out of there when he gets a better offer._ But Dan was going to get out of there first, to stop him having to leave his own home. He drew the blade across his arm again, harder. He winced; that one had hurt a lot. Good. Good. Breathing was becoming easier, his crying less frenzied.

_Dan is just a superficial attention whore._ That bit was wrong. The last thing he wanted was attention. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to look at him and realise how dysfunctional he was. He pressed the sharp tip of the blade to the top of his arm. Tears dripped from his face onto his arm, mixing with the blood on his arm. A red tear ran down his arm, and fell onto the carpet. _Once more should be enough. _He thrust the knife into the soft skin and yanked it roughly down, a small cry exiting his mouth as it burnt.

Already he was feeling calmer, and more in control. He had a plan of action to protect Phil, and he'd got the emotional release that he had needed oh so badly. Maybe things could be okay, now. At least for the rest of the day.

"Hey, now we can…DAN!" Phil stopped in the doorway, his wet hair dripping onto his t-shirt. His face blanched white with horror as he took in the scene before him, and he dropped the pile of DVD's he was carrying to the floor. The silence was deafening, as Phil stood stock still and stared at Dan's arm and Dan stared at Phil, wishing that he had at least hidden somewhere before he started. _Oh god. Now he's going to hate me, and everything will be even harder. _

"Give me those scissors," Phil growled, holding out his hand for them. Dan shook his head and stood up, backing away. The look in Phil's eyes was manic, and Dan wasn't even sure if he could be trusted. "Where the FUCK did you get those?" _He swore. Shit. _

"I…took them," Dan whispered, pressing himself against the wall, as far away from angry Phil as he could get. "From the hospital."

"GIVE THEM TO ME!" Phil yelled, lunging at Dan. Dan kept a firm grip on them. _I might need them later. I need to know I have control. Everything is falling apart, he can't take these too. They helped me, they helped me. How can that be wrong?_

Dan shook his head.

"FINE," Phil yelled, and wheeled around on his heel, heading for the door. Dan felt his heart racing as he hid the scissors quickly beneath the sofa cushion. He had never, in the four or so years he'd know him, seen Phil so furious. Especially not at him. The only time he had ever seen him close had been when Dan told him about the bullies at university, and still that was nothing in comparison to the stranger's fury in his eyes. From the bedroom, Dan would hear slamming and rustling noises, and he pressed himself back against the wall. His arm was a burning, stinging mess and the blood had run down to his wrist so the whole lower arm was stained in rivulets of blood. _And for the first time, a doubt had entered his mind that it was worth it. _

Phil burst back into the room, brandishing a knife. Dan stared at him in shock…_well that's where he keeps the knives then…_and wondered what he intended to do. What he did do though, was the last thing Dan would ever have guessed.

"Will it make me feel better, Dan?" Phil asked, looking into Dan's eyes. He saw the fear in them, but he was too angry to care. He was past the point of logical reasoning. "Will it?"

"N…no…Phil…w..what?" Dan was shaking, bot h with fear and pain from his cut arm.

"It makes YOU feel better," Phil spat, waving the knife in the air. "If it makes YOU feel better why the HELL won't it work for me? And I WANT TO FEEL BETTER. I WANT TO GET THAT IMAGE OF YOU CARVING UP YOUR OWN ARM OUT OF MY HEAD. I WANT IT TOO GO AWAY, I WANT IT TO STOP HURTING. WILL IT STOP, DAN?" Tears were streaming down Phil's face now and his chest was rising and falling with record speed as he struggled to breathe through the crying and shouting.

"Don't, Phil," Dan whispered, choking. "Don't. I'm begging you."

"I fucking asked you the same thing, and you couldn't do it for me," Phil hissed. He shoved up the loose sleeve on his checked shirt and rage boiling through his blood, he pushed the edge of the knife into his upper arm and he cut himself, a long, jagged cut down his arm.

"FUCK!" He yelled suddenly, making Dan jump. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!" He dropped the knife and grabbed his arm, face contorted with pain. Dan ran over to him, wanting to help, but Phil pushed him roughly away. "Get off," he growled at him. "Don't fucking touch me."

Dan retreated to the other side of the room, still crying, and sat down against the wall, wrapping his uncut arm around himself. Phil sat down on the sofa, and Dan stared at the redness on Phil's arm. It looked so wrong there, so out of place. And Dan knew, as he felt his own arm burning, that this time, the release hadn't been worth it. Because the price, this time, had not only been his own blood and pain but _Phil's _too. And through it all, through all of the pain and the self-hatred, he had never ever wanted to cause Phil pain. The only thing that he cut for was for himself. The only price he'd ever had to pay before had been his own blood. But now, he'd dragged Phil into it. _Deplorable. _

Phil stared at the cut on his arm, and knew he needed to calm down. Dan was probably in a bad way in his head, and this wasn't helping. He took a deep breath, and wiped the blood from his own cut. He was still too angry to talk – angry with Dan for abusing his trust and cutting, and angry with himself for losing it like that. He stood up and went over to the cupboard, getting the medical bag. When he went over to Dan, the boy was huddled in the corner, sobbing with his arms wrapped tightly around himself.

Not saying anything, because he still didn't trust himself, Phil squatted down beside Dan and pulled away the arm that he had cut. He wiped the blood off quickly with a wipe, and then bandaged the cut arm firmly, making sure he fixed the bandage in a specific way so Dan couldn't do what he did last time. Neither of them spoke, and the only sound in the room was Dan's quiet sobs and Phil's heavy, angry breathing.

Phil quickly covered up his own cut, scarcely able to believe that he had actually been thick enough to cut his own arm. And what was worst about the situation was he was even more at a loss than he had been before, because the only thing he could say about it was that it _hurt. _It hadn't made him feel better at all, it had just _hurt. _

"It didn't make anything better," Phil said eventually, when the silence reached a point of almost being painful. "Not for me."

"P…Phil," Dan stuttered through his cries. "I…I…it wasn't worth it." He buried his face in his hands and began a fresh wave of tortured sobs, and Phil had to strain to make out what he was saying. "I…I…was just…t…trying to…f…feel b….better….but now…I…feel w…worse because you….you….c…cut yourself."

"Well now you know how I feel every single time you cut yourself," Phil whispered, pulling Dan's hands away from his face and looking him in the eye. "That's how I feel, about you. Every time you cut, Dan, it's the worst possible feeling in the world."

"I'm so, so sorry," Dan mumbled. "I didn't understand."

And now he did. He knew now what it was like to watch someone harm themself. He knew now what it was like to see someone else hurt themself and be unable to stop them. He was no longer on the inside. He was on the outside looking in, and he understood. And his bandaged arm had all been a mistake, a dreadful, awful, painful mistake. Because he'd done that to Phil. He'd moved past the stage of being a burden and a worry to him and entered the stage of being a physical damage.

"Come here," Phil said, and he reached out his arms, pulling Dan onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him tightly. "I'm sorry I scared you, I just…I lost it. It makes me so angry that you would do that to yourself. I'm sorry I scared you."

Dan wrapped his arms around Phil and buried his face into the boys neck, crying. He wanted to hold him close, this one last time, because tomorrow he would be gone. And he would tell them that he didn't want Phil to visit. Phil needed to move on from him, from this destructive and tortured friendship, and Phil needed to get better. And he could only do that if Dan was out of the way, locked up safe and sound with other people as messed up as he was.

* * *

Let me know what you think, either here or on Tumblr (LunaticPhan). If anyone needs to talk about anything, message me. I'm here for any kind of support etc xxx


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN - GOODBYE (nb, in the letter, the bits in brackets are meant to be crossed out!)**

Dan rolled over, so that he was right on the edge of the bed, and then gently sat up, wriggling over so he could step out without waking Phil. It was five in the morning, and he had deliberately kept Phil up late the previous night so that he would sleep through.

After the stress and angst, he had sat and let Phil hold him for ages, until it became too bittersweet for him to handle. Because he knew it would be the last time, and whilst he never wanted it to end, he also didn't want to give himself more pain when the separation actually had to happen. So he'd let go and suggested they watched a film. He hadn't been able to stop himself leaning against Phil though, and when Phil had tucked his arm around him he'd found it hard to concentrate. He'd dragged it out until two in the morning, saying they could just have a lie in._ Phil could have a lie in, and then Dan would be gone when he woke up._

Holding his breath, Dan eased past the end of the bed with was painfully close to the wall. He paused at the bedroom door, looking at Phil, aware that this would be the last time he watched him sleeping. He was smiling in his sleep, a gentle, beautiful smile that suited him perfectly. His bandaged arm hurt Dan's stomach, as if someone had kicked him. _He'd done that to Phil_. Phil's normally perfect hair was wavy and stuck up in all directions because he hadn't straightened it after his last shower. He looked adorable.

He was _too good._ He was everything right in Dan's world, and Dan knew that he needed Phil. But Phil didn't need Dan, and so by staying he would be being selfish. Phil needed to go out there and grab the world with both hands, make a huge success of himself and settle down with someone who made him happy. Normally, the thought of Phil leaving for someone else was a source of pain to Dan, but now it was a source of comfort. After watching Phil drag a knife down his own arm _because of Dan, _Dan could finally see that he needed to let him go. That was what they said, after all - if you love somebody, you have to let them go.

And by staying, maybe he was fixing himself, but he was breaking Phil. _And he was already the broken one_. So it didn't seem fair to break Phil as well; to destroy him in order to fix himself.

Dan shut the door as tears welled up in his eyes, and he struggled not to make a noise as he began to cry silently. He lent against the door, as memories came flooding up and engulfed him. The first time he met Phil had been the scariest day of his life, and then Phil had turned out to be brilliantly funny and so similar to Dan that it had become the best day ever. The Super Amazing project had given him some of the best laughs ever – the segments Phil came up with were hilarious. Phil is not on fire had been brilliant too, and every moment he spent so close to Phil on camera was magical.

Every little thing he had ever done, he had done with Phil. He wondered how he was going to separate himself from Phil and from the memories of him. Because when he tried to remove him from his life, he knew he'd be cutting away a large proportion of his past because Phil had always been there. Who was Dan, without Phil? _Nobody._ Dan without Phil didn't exist. But he would have to start existing pretty damn soon; because Dan with Phil was destructive to the best person Dan had ever met.

In the kitchen he took out a piece of paper and a pen, and pressed the pen to paper, writing his goodbye. He tried his best not to cry, but he didn't manage it, and two tear marks were left on the paper. He tried to rub them off but the writing started to smudge so he gave up, and left the piece of paper in the middle of the table. He rummaged under the sofa cushion and retrieved the scissors, placing them with the note. He knew he'd never manage to sneak them into the mental ward. In his pocket, he had a photo of him and Phil, folded up. Although he knew that a clean break would be easier, and that forgetting him would be best, he couldn't do that. Forgetting Phil would be like trying to forget him own name – impossible and ridiculous. Taking one last deep breath, Dan left the flat, shutting the door firmly, for what he knew would be the last time. _Goodbye, Phil._

* * *

Phil woke up bursting for the toilet, and stumbled out of the bed, walking slowly to the door, being quiet because he knew it was early and Dan would still be asleep after their late night. He used the bathroom, and rolled his eyes at himself in the mirror – his hair looked ridiculous because he'd forgotten to straighten it after it dried.

He wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water for his dry lips, seeing that the time was just gone a quarter past five in the morning. Good. That meant he could go back to bed, snuggle up to sleeping Dan, and sleep some more. His eyes were drawn to the worktop and he noticed the scissors – realising quickly that he'd never made Dan give them to him. Clearly Dan had decided to give them to him after what had happened. Smiling softly, Phil picked them up and then his face fell as he saw the note. The words written with a shaky hand. The tear marks. The smudging. The goodbye.

_Phil,_

_I am so sorry. I am sorry for everything that I have done and made you deal with. I am sorry that I was starving myself. I am sorry that I cut myself. Above all, I am sorry that what I did to myself started to impact on you._

_(I love you and) __You are too good for me. I have realised this all along, but I was too selfish to admit it even to myself. When I was cutting myself yesterday, that was because I already knew I was leaving. Some comments on my newest video showed me why I can't stay here. I can't stay here and hurt you. _

_Phil, you are like the sun (__to me)__ and I am the clouds. You are everything good and brilliant, and then I am the blackness that covers it up. You need to move on. And the only way you can do that is if I leave. I know you would never ask me to leave – because you are so very kind – but I also know that it is for the best if I do. You need to be free from me, and all of the badness that comes with me. _

_(I love you but I) __ Don't come and try to find me Phil. I'm leaving, and I won't be coming back. You have helped me so much already and it isn't fair of me to ask you to carry on. Don't look for me, because if you do, I don't think I'll be able to stay away. And I'm doing it for you. _

_I hope that you don't miss me too much, and always remember__ (I love you) __wherever you are, and whoever you are with, in my head you will always be my best friend. _

_You really are amazing, Phil. Goodbye. _

Phil was out of the door in three minutes exactly, the note crumpled up in his pocket and his wallet in his hand. As he ran down the stairs – the lift took too long to arrive – his heart was pounding and he was praying to a god that he didn't believe in that Dan wouldn't get there before he caught up. Because Phil already knew where Dan was going - the one place he could hide himself away from Phil and still be safe from himself. The hospital.

And maybe, just maybe, Phil would have done what the note told him to do and tried to forget Dan. But, in the three crossed out _I love you's_ he had finally seen some kind of reciprocation for what he felt.

* * *

Dan stood outside the hospital, across the street, rocking back and forwards on his heels. He was dressed in his pyjamas still, and had bandaged wrists. He knew if anyone drove past, they'd assume he'd escaped. Which he supposed, technically he had. He'd always belonged here, but because of Phil he had managed to get away. And now, his own feet had dragged him back.

He was afraid, though. This seemed so final. So scary. He didn't like to feel enclosed, or trapped. And he didn't want to say goodbye to Phil. He could go back to the flat. He could rip the note up, and slip back into bed, and wrap his arms around sleeping Phil.

_Stop it, Dan. You need to leave him alone, now. _It had been so hard to leave the flat, and Dan had thought it would be easy to walk into the hospital. But now he knew it wasn't easy. Nothing was easy, but he had never known things could be this difficult. He took a deep breath of the air, as if it was his last taste of freedom, and stepped out into the empty road, one step closer to the hospital.

* * *

Phil was desperately out of breath, but there weren't any buses so early in the morning anywhere near to him, so he'd eventually given up looking for one and started to run. As he ran, it started to rain and he began to get drenched. _What if Dan just wants to leave? What if it is because of you, but he can't say because he doesn't want to hurt you?_

Phil shook the thoughts away. Dan had wanted to write 'I love you' but he hadn't been brave enough. Phil just hoped that he hadn't crossed it out properly because he wanted Phil to see. He wanted Phil to see when it was too late for him to be rescued, because he wanted him to know that it wasn't his fault that Dan was gone.

* * *

"DAN!" Phil yelled, as he saw him standing in the middle of the road. _Just in time. And they say that God isn't real._

Dan turned around and saw Phil running towards him, also wearing his pyjamas. He almost laughed. They both looked like escaped loonies. But then his confused mind processed the fact that a) it was raining b) he'd been stood in the middle of the road for ten minutes and c) Phil should be back at the flat, in bed.

"What are you doing here?" Dan asked, shuffling to the other side of the road. _Closer to the hospital. _

"You can't do this," Phil said as he finally reached the boy, who was just as wet as he was but didn't even seem to have noticed the rain. "Why are you here? Why are you doing this?"

"Did you not read my note?" Dan said in a dull, flat monotone. _Phil, leave. Go home. Leave me here, and move on._

"I did," Phil said, grabbing Dan by the upper arms and shaking him. "I read it, and it's all stupid."

"It's all true," Dan mumbled, looking down at the floor rather than at Phil. "I'm screwed up. You're not. And what I did yesterday…that almost made you like me. I've screwed with you that much that you did this to yourself," he grasped Phil's bandaged arm and lifted it up. "That was my fault. And if I stay, worse things could happen. You need to be happy Phil, and I need to get better."

"But I can make you better," Phil whispered, searching Dan's face for some sign of the Dan he knew. At that moment, his face was nothing but the cold mask he hid behind. "You've barely given me the chance to try."

"I know you can," Dan said, and his mask finally broke, his brown eyes welling with tears. "Phil, I know you can. I know you can fix me. _But I can break you too_. And that is not, and never will be, a price I am willing to pay. So you need to let me go."

Phil shook his head. He couldn't find the words to make it all okay, and he was crying too, tears mixing with rain on his face. He couldn't see any way that he could make Dan see that he needed him. That it wasn't as black and white as he thought. Dan wasn't bad; Phil wasn't good. Dan wasn't broken; Phil wasn't fixed. And broken didn't always mean bad, and fixed didn't always mean good. But that wasn't how Dan saw the world. Dan saw the world bathed in darkness.

"It's not your choice to make," Dan murmured, holding back his tears as he watched Phil's streaming down. He wanted desperately to reach out and wipe them away with his cold fingertips, but he knew he shouldn't do that. "I'm doing this for you, Phil. The final gift. Freedom."

"I don't want to be free," Phil said, frantically shaking his head. He grabbed Dan's hands, and they were freezing and wet. Dan didn't hold his back, and he stared down at his feet, shaking his head. He started to shiver.

"It's time to say goodbye, Phil," Dan whispered, his words catching in his throat. "Let me go."

"And this is what…this is what you want?" Phil asked.

"It was never what I wanted," Dan said forcefully, looking up, a horrified look on his face. "I would stay with you until the world was burning around us. But I'm _just _your friend. This is not what I want, and it's probably not what you want at the moment, but it's what you need in order to be healthy and happy in the long run. I want you to be happy."

"_You _make me happy," Phil said, tightening his grip on Dan's hands. _I don't care. I'm not letting go._

"I make you worried and angry and afraid," Dan said. "I make you feel all the negative emotions there are."

"Yes, you do," Phil said. "But you make me feel the good ones too. Without you Dan, what am I?"

"You'll be okay," Dan said. "Without me, you'll be okay."

"I won't," Phil said, his eyes starting to sting from the warm tears on his cold eyelids. "It's true you make me feel those negative emotions. But I only feel them because…because I love you so much. I only feel that way because I want you to be happy, and when you aren't I hate it."

"Phil, let go of my hands," Dan begged. "Stop. You're making it harder."

"Well I want to make it hard!" Phil growled. "I want to make it so hard you can't fucking leave me here in the rain, whilst you walk away!"

"Phil, let go," Dan said, trying to pull his fingers away as his tears escaped too. "Please let me go." Dan twisted his fingers away finally and hastily stepped backwards, out of Phil's reach. He took a few more steps backwards, his brown eyes glistening at Phil and then he turned around. Phil stared at his back, his spine clear as his shirt stuck to him with the rain. Phil looked at his thin and fragile body, and he knew that if he let him go now, he'd lose him forever. So, because there was nothing left to be afraid of, Phil yelled the words he'd kept inside him for so long.

"DAN, I'M IN LOVE YOU WITH!" He shouted into the rain, his hands forming fists. "I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU. Even now. Even as you're walking away from me, trying to leave me behind. I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU, AND THE ONLY WAY I CAN BE HAPPY IS IF YOU STAY. Don't leave me Dan!" Dan had stopped walking, and Phil could see each breathe he took. "Please," he whispered, dragging his hands down his face to try and clear it of rain and tears.

Dan turned around and stared at Phil, his brown eyes mistrustful.

"Phil…" he whispered. _Was it a trick? It would be a cruel, cruel trick._

"I mean it, Dan," Phil said. "You think you're broken, and maybe you are, but aren't we all? Aren't we all a little broken? It doesn't matter to me, because I am in love with you and there's nothing you can do or say to change that. So if you really want to go…then go. But it won't be doing me any good, because I won't ever be happy without you."

Dan stared at him, rain cascading down his face. His eyes met Phil's and they were full of tears. Phil took a few big steps forwards and he took Dan's face in his hands, and their lips crashed together with a desperate necessity. Dan's lips felt so warm to Phil, and he clung to him as he kissed him with everything he had. Their bodies were pressed together, a source of warmth in the cold air. When they finally broke away, they were both gasping for breath, and Phil looked at Dan with fear in his eyes.

_Would he still leave? If he did, Phil didn't know if he could cope with that…not now he'd told him. Not now he'd kissed him._

"Shall…shall we go home?" Phil whispered.

Dan nodded.


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN - NO QUESTION MARK**

"We're going to get you through this," Phil promised, when they were both dressed in dry clothes, towels draped over their shoulders to stop their hair wetting their tops. Dan was sitting cross legged on the sofa, and Phil carried two mugs of warm tea over to him, and sat down next to him.

"I'm scared of so much, Phil," Dan mumbled, taking his cup with a grateful smile.

"I'm scared of a lot, too," Phil replied, looking him straight in the eyes. "More than anything, though, I'm scared of losing you. When I saw that note, I thought I'd lost you, and that was the worst feeling in the world."

"Even worse than…than…than being told that you have to have your arms chopped off?" Dan asked, his eyes sparkling a little bit. It was strange, the way Phil made him feel…maybe it was happiness. He couldn't quite remember what that felt like though, so he couldn't say for certain.

"Even worse than that," Phil said, shrugging. "I could make do without my arms. I could get prosthetics. But I couldn't get another you; not if I went to the ends of the earth and back again."

"I'm sorry," Dan said, shuffling up and resting his head on Phil's shoulder. "I…I thought I was doing what was best for you."

"It's okay," Phil said, gently running his hand through Dan's hair – which due to the rain was even curlier than it normally was un-straightened. _Adorable. _"You just assumed the wrong thing about what was best for me."

"I'm still not sure that I am what's best for you, Phil," Dan murmured into Phil's t-shirt, breathing his coffee and mint scent.

"You make me happy," Phil asserted firmly. "And that is all that matters to me. Genuinely, Dan, I cannot live without you here. I don't want to spend the next few months constantly looking over my shoulder afraid that the next time I look you'll have run off supposedly for my own good."

"And you're completely sure that you want me to stay here?" Dan asked. "Completely?"

"One hundred percent sure," Phil replied. "Didn't I make that obvious, outside the hospital?"

"I…well. On the way home, I thought maybe that was just your way of making me come back and…"

Dan didn't get to finish his sentence, because Phil grabbed his chin with one hand and pulled his face towards his, pressing his lips firmly to Dan's. Even as Dan tried to speak more, Phil just kissed him until he gave up and kissed back. Dan could feel one of Phil's hands tangled in his hair, and he was aware of every single part of his body throbbing and tingling. Dan tried to break the kiss after a few moments because he knew he had a point to make and Phil was stealing his ability to be coherent, but Phil held onto him, and gently teased his lip with his teeth, sending shivers down Dan's spine. When Phil finally pulled away, they were both feeling incredibly flustered and Dan could hardly remember his own name, let alone his point.

"Did that feel fake to you?" Phil asked, his face so close to Dan's that Dan could have kissed him again, had he not needed to answer his question.

"No," Dan breathed. "It felt fucking amazing."

"Today," Phil said softly. "Today is the day that we're going to start to pick up your pieces and put them back together."

"I won't leave you, Phil," Dan promised, running his fingers through the ebony locks. "Not now I know that you want me to stay. I'm not strong enough to leave, knowing it would hurt you too."

* * *

Dan sat in the middle of the sofa, tapping his fingers together and staring into space. He was alone. Completely alone. Phil had gone out alone, for the first time since he had realised how messed up Dan was. Dan hadn't cut for four whole weeks, and whilst that was great, Phil realised that he needed to test the waters. Because he knew how temperamental a balance Dan stood upon, and he knew that the only way Dan would get completely better was to learn to trust himself.

Dan hadn't wanted him to leave. But he had. And it had been the hardest thing in the world watching Phil walk out of the door, and just wanting to chase after him. When he was with Phil, the sun was always shining. Phil chased away the demons with his laugh and his cuddles and his kisses; with his kind words and his stupid jokes and his ideas of fun things that they could do. He was so normal, so relaxed, that Dan couldn't help but be that way too.

And it was true that he had slipped up. Many, many times in fact, he had found himself curled up on the floor and he had cut himself. And every single time, Phil had held him whilst he cried, and every single time Phil had bandaged him up again. _Fixing him. Putting him back together. One cut at a time. _Phil had forgiven him too, and comforted him. He had whispered words of wisdom into his ear, telling him that it was okay. That everybody messed up sometimes. And the thing that mattered was that he got back up again and kept on trying. And the trying had worked – to the tune of four weeks clean. No cuts on him at all. He was clean.

But when Phil left, Dan didn't know what to do. There was nobody to protect him from himself. He could feel the fear rising up in him, like a balloon full of blood.

_But what am I afraid of?_

_Phil not coming back. _

_What if he doesn't come back? This could be him leaving, because he thinks that I'm okay now. He's just been biding him time, waiting for a way to escape. _

Dan squeezed his eyes shut. He knew he shouldn't listen to them, he knew he should block them out. But he'd spent so long listening to them, that he thought that they told the truth. And now, he was alone, and they seemed like old friends. _Or foes. _

Dan felt his eyes searching the room for a weapon; anything that Phil hadn't yet managed to remove from him. He knew he would find something if he looked hard enough…there was always a way to hurt yourself. Heart hammering, Dan lunged for the phone.

_Don't call him. He's trying to escape from you, okay? Just let him have his space. He's not been gone long, for god's sake, give the poor guy a break. _

"P…Phil?" Dan whimpered into the phone.

"Dan, don't do it," Phil said loudly, stopping in the middle of the street. Dan was close to it, he could tell by the fear in his voice.

"P…Phil," Dan repeated softly and started to cry. _I'm even weaker than I thought. Or maybe the demons are stronger. Maybe they've grown stronger with lack of blood. Thrived and grown. _

"I'm coming home," Phil said. He wasn't far away anyway – of course he wasn't. He wouldn't leave Dan alone for long, and he'd sort of anticipated that he'd need to be within calling distance. "Don't hang up, Dan."

"Okay," Dan whispered, sitting down in the hallway, and wrapping one arm tightly around himself, choking on his sobs. _Why do I give them so much strength? Why do I let them do this to me? _

_Because they're telling the truth. Phil shouldn't be wasting his life with you. _

"Dan, take deep breaths," Phil said gently, shoving people out of his way. He was normally polite, but this was an emergency and they were in his way. "Just keep breathing and listening to my voice. Hang on in there."

There was no reply, and Phil ripped his phone away from his ear, gazing at it in horror as a message flashed across the black screen – NO SIM.

"Damn you Apple!" Phil growled, and he started to run.

_See. See, Dan. Nothing but bother. _Dan stood up, and walked slowly into the kitchen, chest heaving with sobs. He ripped open the drawer and fumbled, pulling out the first thing his hand collided with. He stared down at it, breathing heavily. _Go on. It will help. Maybe._

* * *

Phil was struggling for breath by the time he reached the top of the stairs, his phone still held in his hand as it flashed uselessly at him. He was close to tears and screaming prayers to heaven that Dan was okay. But he knew he wasn't okay, because he'd heard his small, terrified voice on the end of the line before it disconnected.

"Dan?" He cried out, gasping desperately as he slammed into the flat.

"Here," Dan called weakly from the kitchen. Phil hurried through, chucking his jacket on the floor in his rush.

"D…Dan?" Phil croaked, his head reeling. He felt all of the breath leave his body as he stared down at Dan huddled up in the corner, both of his arms covered in red lines. "What…what…oh my god!" He didn't know what to do or what to say…there were so many of them…red lines everywhere, crisscrossing the beautiful arms that ten minutes before had been clean apart from the delicate white scars.

"It's okay," Dan said, smiling weakly, his face stained with tears. "I'm okay."

"N…no you aren't," Phil said, pressing his hands to his face as he panicked, trying to assess the situation from afar because he didn't want to get too close. It would make him feel more sick than he already did. _Do I need to get him to hospital? Has he lost too much blood already? Do we even have enough bandages for that? I thought he was getting better._

"I'm fine, Phil," Dan smiled. _Why is he smiling? Why is he happy? Look at what he's done to himself._

"What…what did you…what did you use to do that to yourself?" Phil struggled to get the words out. Anger seeped into his tone.

"This," Dan said, holding it up. Phil stared at it for a moment, his brain finally catching up with the missing details.

_It was a red sharpie. _

"Oh my fucking god," Phil gasped, striding over to Dan and sinking to the floor. "Oh my god, Dan. I thought…I thought they were cuts." He reached out and took Dan's arms in his hands, running his thumbs over the smooth skin. _Red lines, drawn with pen, not blades._ "Thank god. Thank every god in the world."

"I…I don't know why," Dan said, as Phil stroked his thumbs almost lovingly over the fake cuts. "I just…it helped. It was almost like I got my release just from the act of making the lines. Maybe I don't even need the blood anymore." He smiled tentatively and Phil kissed him, pressing him back against the wall.

"I'm so proud of you," Phil whispered against the soft lips, relief coursing through him.

"I'm kind of proud of me too," Dan said, with a crooked smile. "I beat them, Phil."

"Your demons?" Phil asked, standing up and tugging Dan up with him.

"Yep," Dan said, eyes glistening. "They're still here, but…quieter now…I think someday they'll be gone. I just have to keep winning, and stay strong, and…maybe one day they'll all be gone for good."

"Not maybe, definitely," Phil said, pulling on Dan's hands and walking backwards.

"Where are we going?" Dan asked, confused.

"The shower," Phil said, grinning suggestively at Dan. "You need to wash the pen off."

"And I can't do that by myself?" Dan said, biting his lip.

"Nope, I really do think that you need my help," Phil grinned as he pulled Dan into the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind him.

* * *

Dan sat in the middle of the sofa, tapping his fingers together and staring into space. He was alone. Completely alone.

Maybe Phil wouldn't come back.

Dan shook his head and stood up, grabbing his laptop from the corner of the room. He wasn't going to make a fool of himself like he had last time. Phil's whispered words in his ear before he left ran through his head…_Be brave, my little danosaur. I believe in you, and I love you more than your demons hate you._

_I love you more than your demons hate you._

Dan smiled to himself, and for the next hour he browsed the internet, reblogging things on Tumblr and being genuinely content. And he was alone.

Alone, both in the flat, and in his head.

* * *

"Phil, we need to talk," Dan said, standing in the doorway to their room. Phil was stretched on the bed, reading a magazine and sat up when he heard Dan's tone, his eyes searching his face for some clue of what was wrong.

"Are you okay?" Phil asked. It had been a while since Dan had last not been okay, but Phil was always watching. He knew he couldn't afford to let Dan slip away, back into the broken boy he used to be.

"Yes," Dan said, and he went to sit on the end of the bed next to Phil. "I am fine. But I think I should leave."

"L…leave?" Phil spluttered, the resolution on Dan's face scaring him, and the sudden announcement. Dan said it so casually, as if he was just remarking in the weather, or saying he needed a haircut.

"Yes, I think that I should move out," Dan replied, his fingers tracing patterns on the duvet. He looked up at Phil, and his heart twisted at the look on his face. "I love you, and I will be grateful to you until the day that I die, which hopefully won't be soon. But, I need to leave. I need you to know that I can live without you. I need you to know that it's okay for us to finish now, because you fixed me like you intended to all along. There is no need for you to stay with me anymore. What you did for me was more than anyone would ever have asked, and I love you so much for that. But now that I am better, I can go and live without you. I don't want to, but I can and _I will_."

"Dan, why are you saying this?" Phil said, not sure he was following, but sure that wherever this was going, it wasn't good.

"You can be free," Dan said, with a sad smile. "I'm not going to start cutting again, don't worry. I know now that it was never a way of helping myself, and I was just making myself worse the whole time. So now you don't need to stay with me out of guilt."

"I was never with you out of guilt," Phil protested. Dan stood up and shrugged.

"I love you," he said. "But I'm going, because I can live without you."

As Dan walked towards the door, Phil wanted to throw things at him, but there was nothing to hand.

"Dan!" He called desperately. Dan turned around and raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why do you keep doing this?" Phil said, clambering off the bed and walking over to Dan. "You keep walking away from me, and making me chase after you."

"I don't want you to chase after me," Dan snapped. "I want you to know that it's okay for you to move on now."

"And I don't give a damn about that, you idiot," Phil laughed. "I started a relationship with you because I love you, and I would have done so cutting or no cutting. I don't really care if you can live without me or not, because I'm pretty sure I can't live without you."

"Really?" Dan said, frowning in disbelief.

"Really," Phil said. "I thought your demons were gone! Stop thinking thoughts like that, Daniel Howell, because you are my boyfriend and I am in love with you."

* * *

Dan was scrolling through Tumblr. He knew he should be working on his video but he was procrastinating, as usual. A message appeared in his inbox and he clicked on it. It was an ask, anonymous of course. They always were, he thought wryly, shaking his head. He assumed it was hate, a declaration of love or nagging about his next video but surprisingly it wasn't any of them.

_Has anyone ever saved you, physically or mentally?_

He remembered that question being asked before, a long time ago. He'd answered 'Phil? unsure because at that period of time he had only recently met Phil and he didn't need saving then. He stared at it for a moment, biting his lip, and then he typed in an answer.

_Phil._

No question mark.

* * *

**CRRRY it's over. I love you guys for reading it all, and giving me nice comments and being genuinely amazing, amazing readers. I love each and every one of you. And I hope you enjoyed it...if enjoyed is the right word huh.**

**I will be writing more fictions, don't you worry. If you have any ideas or requests for what I should write next, send me an ask on tumblr (lunaticphan) and I shall write for you. Because I owe you all a lot - without the reviews i'd have given up on chapter one ;) xxx**


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